


Resist Everything Except Temptation

by Lis (domesticharry)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: All the Smut, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Chaptered, Complete, Gemma is a badass, Harry is a fierce captain with gorgeous clothes, Liam is strong and blah blah, Louis is the commodore's son, M/M, Niall is the sailing master because he steers this gay ass ship, No main charachter's die so just enjoy the angst and roll with it, Steve is Louis' buddy but he's actually happy to be there, There is allusion to violence and blood but it's really not bad, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Zayn is quartermaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 100,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticharry/pseuds/Lis
Summary: The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.“Captain,” Malik greeted.Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible.There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.ORThe one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this gem is going to be ten chapters and about 100k. I mentioned it in the tags but another warning, there is some violence, they are pirates after all. However, there won't be main character death. Also, if you don't like smut, I advise you to quit while you're ahead and don't read this. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: domestic-harry
> 
> Leave comments, kudos, and all that good stuff if you like it so far! 
> 
> -Lis xx

_Kensington Harbor, 1732._

As the sun crept over the horizon, the Commodore’s mansion became illuminated in a rosy haze. Filtered rays of light trickled against freshly painted windowpanes. The three story abode was thick with ivory plaster and hugged by burgundy brick. Ropes of ivy climbed along the siding, the thick twines winding as they anchored themselves against the building. Inside a bedroom on the second floor, behind the last door on the left, was Louis Tomlinson. 

“Mr. Tomlinson, Sir, are you decent?” 

Louis arched his back against the plush mattress, cringing as air bubbles crackled along his spine. He wiped crusted sleep from his eyes and slowly sat upwards. Hands pressed firmly against the duvet, he pushed himself off of his bed and with a lethargic pace, began to get ready for the day. 

Every morning, it was the same routine. 

Once daylight drenched the island and native songbirds had begun their morning melodies, Louis would be woken up by his chambermaid, Ellen. She would gently call into his bedroom with slight hesitance that hindered her plaintive voice. And every morning, her trepid tone was met with a disgruntled grumble from underneath a tangle of covers. 

From bed, Louis would drag himself into an adjacent bathroom. There, he would find his pearly porcelain tub already filled with hot water. As he washed off the sheen layer of sweat that licked his body, Ellen would lay out his clothes and quietly dismiss herself to repeat the same actions for Louis’ six younger siblings. 

Haphazardly, he dried himself off and stood in front of a perched vanity. The tiled floor was cold underneath Louis’ feet as he combed out the tangled knots of his hair. With a bit of effort, he was able to smooth out the brown tendrils until the ends tickled against the nape of his neck. In the vanity, his blue eyes stared back at him. His skin was flushed tan from the hours underneath the Caribbean sunlight, his nose speckled with freckles. With a last pat against his hair, Louis turned back to his bedroom. 

His navy duvet was neatly stretched across the mattress, thick pillows fluffed and settled at the head of the bed. Nestled at the foot of the mattress, a pile of folded clothes. A flowy tunic came first, the creamy material soft against his skin as he shrugged it over is shoulders. Next, a fitted pair of beige trousers that tightly hugged the thick muscles along his thighs and cut off just underneath his kneecaps. 

Louis sat on the bed as he pulled up a pair of white socks that tucked underneath the hem of his trousers. At the bottom of the pile was a brown vest lined with ornate gold buttons. It was a gift from his father, Commodore Mark Tomlinson, on his eighteenth birthday. The gold buttons flaunted their “higher” rank in society. Or at least, that’s what the attached card had told Louis. While stability was something to be proud of, Louis would have chosen to spend his birthday with his father rather than gold buttons. 

Regardless, he wore the vest every day. 

Mindlessly, his nimble fingers secured the vest down his front. Crossing the wooden paneled floor, Louis stopped at a granite wardrobe. He pulled open the top drawer and thumbed over three thick belts, eventually opting for dark brown leather. Securing the belt over his waist, Louis cinched his middle and made sure the thick buckle rested in the center. Slipping his feet into a pair of buckled brown shoes, Louis was ready for the day. 

The house was filled with mumbled conversations, voices becoming clearer as Louis descended the grand staircase. His heels lightly _clicked_ against the floor, drawing attention as he passed by different members of the staff. 

“Good morning, Sir. Beautiful day,” an older man politely greeted as he bowed his back. His dusted wig remained secured on top of his head with the motion. 

Louis curtly nodded back at the house steward, “That it is.”

Continuing his way towards the dining area, Louis saw the rest of his family already gathered around a rectangular table. His mother, Johanna, was sat at the head of the table. Her long auburn hair was pinned back and her cheeks were flushed red from laughter. A smile tugged at the corner of Louis’ mouth as he sidled into the empty seat to her right. 

“Good morning, Darling,” Johanna grinned, her hand lightly cupping Louis’ jaw. “Sleep well?”

“Morning,” Louis playfully rolled his eyes as he plucked her hand off of his face. “Would have slept better if I wasn’t listening to _someone_ moan on about Henry Pently all night.” 

Louis pointedly cocked his eyebrow as he looked across the table. Directly across from him was the second eldest of the Tomlinson’s, Charlotte. Unlike the rest of the siblings, all of which had brown hair, Charlotte had long silver tresses. It drew attention to her whenever they went to town. However, much to her chagrin, those suitors were quickly batted off by Louis’ glare and sharp tongue. 

“Henry Pently? Who’s Henry Pently?” their mother quickly asked, her head snapping between Louis and Charlotte. 

Charlotte’s cobalt eyes bored into Louis’ as her mouth twisted into evident disdain. She unceremoniously stabbed her fork into a wedge of potato on her plate. 

“Yeah, Charlotte?” Louis egged on as he rested his chin against his palm, “Who is Henry Pently?” 

“No idea who you mean,” Charlotte snuffed, her lips pursed as she chewed. Once she swallowed, she picked up her goblet and tilted the glass towards Louis. “I’d rather talk about how you rejected Mary McKinley.” 

Blood rushed to Louis’ cheeks as he bit his tongue. Johanna squawked next to him and held up her hands, her cutlery clashing against the plate set in front of her. He quickly jutted his leg out underneath the table and made contact with Charlotte’s shin. 

“Louis,” Johanna sternly said, her finger threateningly pointed at Louis’ chest, “What did you do?” 

“Uh…” Louis drawled out as he anxiously tugged at the napkin in his lap. 

“I don’t like Mary, I’m glad Louis said no to her father.” 

Louis whipped his head towards his left, his jaw loose as he stared at his sister, Félicité. She was fourteen, a year younger than Charlotte. Whereas Charlotte and Louis were stubborn and hot headed, Félicité was their antithesis. She was gentle and patient, rarely had a negative word to say against anybody. Which was the exact reason why Louis stared at her as if she had grown an extra limb. 

Félicité privately grinned at Louis and barely lifted her shoulders into a shrug. 

“See,” Louis gestured towards his younger sister as he faced his mother’s unimpressed stare, “If Félicité says that it was a bad idea, it genuinely must have been a horrible idea.” 

Johanna shook her head, “She comes from a respectable family.”

“Is that really all you care about?” Louis incredulously said, flinching at the harsh inflection. “Not who she is as a person, just as long as I marry someone with a respectable family?” 

“Of course not, Darling,” Johanna sighed, her hands delicately folding on the tabletop. “I just don’t want you to be lonely. You’ll be nineteen soon enough –” 

Louis groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face, “How could I possibly be lonely when I’m surrounded by all of you?” He gestured towards the rest of the table to emphasize his point, the two sets of younger twins quieting in their seats. 

To Félicité’s left, there was Daisy and Phoebe. They were identical, ten year old twins who were too curious for their own good. Louis would tell them old stories of mermaids and pirates at night, only spurring them on further learn more. Unlike other little girls their age, the prospect of pirates didn’t scare them; it intrigued them. Eventually, the two girls started to pick up every book in their father’s study about piracy, teaching Louis things that he didn’t even know. 

“He can’t go,” Daisy pouted, her bottom lip sticking out slightly as she looked between Louis and Johanna. “Who would tell us stories?” 

“That’s what a nurse is for,” Johanna quipped as she meaningfully stared at Louis. “Isn’t it, Louis?” 

Louis bit the inside of his cheek as he glimpsed at the two hopeful faces looking back at him. Phoebe was slightly shaking her head as her lips mouthed the word, “No.” He heavily swallowed as he looked at the youngest set of twins by Charlotte’s side. Earnest and Doris were three years old. Both of them had thick curly hair and ruddy cheeks from constant squeals of laughter. They were too young to understand the ways of the world around them. 

“Yes,” Louis mumbled under his breath. 

“I want you to tell Mr. McKinley that you’ve changed your mind.” 

Louis gaped at his mother, his eyes widened as her words sunk in. 

“ _What?_ ” 

Charlotte straightened in her chair, her back rigid as she watched the scene unfold. She extended her hand towards their mother, the pads of her finger lightly pressing to Johanna’s wrist. 

“No, _no_ , that’s – That’s not what I meant to…,” Charlotte scrambled for words. “She’s horrible, really. Mother, you can’t make him.” 

Louis felt his pulse rabbit in his neck. His hands had turned clammy as his eyes glazed over, shock reverberating through his body. Everything inside of him felt too big, as if his heart and mind were being constricted and grounded down. Sweat clung to the center of his chest, the beads attaching themselves to Louis’ tunic. 

“That’s enough,” Johanna effectively silenced her daughter’s rambling. She lightly took Louis’ limp hand in her own, giving his digits a gentle squeeze. “You knew this was coming sooner or later, Louis. It’s time you started your own family.”

He never fully understood why it was expected of him. It wasn’t as if Louis didn’t already have a family, so why did he need to start another? When Louis turned eighteen and Johanna had begun to push the idea of marriage on him, Louis waved it off. He figured that if he continued to swat it away as if it was a fly, surely, it would die. People would stop caring. 

Instead of dying, as his nineteenth birthday began to get closer, urgency grew. Other natives and merchants alike began to push their daughters onto Louis, making offers that made his stomach curdle. The thing was, everyone wanted to marry into the superficial ideal of “The Commodore’s Son.” Louis wasn’t sure if people genuinely believed he was going to be a commodore one day, or if it was the money that already filtered through his bloodline. Either way, fathers wanted their daughters to have a share of it. 

“Right,” Louis croaked, his voice catching on the word as it hung in the stagnant air.

Félicité recoiled beside him, “You can’t be serious?” 

Louis roughly swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed his chair back, the idea of food repulsing him. He stood and folded his hands behind his back as he stared at his siblings and mother. 

“She’s right,” Louis gritted out as his eyes slid to his mother’s, “We all knew that this time would come. No sense in putting it off any longer.” Inhaling deeply through his nose, Louis humorously tacked on, “Father will be pleased.” 

Pity flickered over Charlotte’s face and Louis had a hunch that he would see a similar expression on Félicité’s. 

“So, right,” Louis ineloquently finished as he walked away from the table. “I’ll go see them now.” 

Without another word, Louis strode towards the front door, passing by different members of the staff. He grabbed a leather-bound sack by the entrance and slung it over his shoulder. The butler hauled opened the mahogany door, bowing slightly as Louis walked through. 

Instantly, he broke towards the stable. The soles of his shoes crunched against the pebbles that covered the ground. The wooden barn was situated towards the right of the mansion, different stable hands maneuvering through the space. 

“Oh, Sir, I didn’t know you’d be riding today?” A stable hand rather questioned than stated as Louis cleared through the barn doors. “Gilroy, Murtogg! Get Athena saddled!” the young man shouted with his hands by his mouth, “C’mon men, before the sun falls and we’re all dead in the dirt!” 

“Thank you,” Louis murmured as Gilroy and Murtogg quickly ran towards a stall on the right side of the barn. 

Louis felt the constriction in his chest ease a fraction as a black Arabian horse was led from the stall. He took a step towards the horse, biting back a grin as she whinnied in response. 

“Has she already been fed?” Louis asked as he walked towards the horse, his hands immediately coming to settle against her thick neck. “There’s my girl,” he cooed an octave lower as his hands combed through her thick onyx mane. 

“Yes, Sir,” the stable hand answered as he secured the buckle of Louis’ saddle.

“Good.” 

Once Athena was saddled, Louis mounted her with an ease that came from years of riding. He firmly gripped the reigns and lightly dug his heels into her side. They sprinted out of the barn, bolting towards an abandoned trail he found at the age of thirteen. 

The earth changed from a collection of pebbles to packed dirt. Grass surrounded the flourishing underbrush around him. Louis pulled back and slowed Athena to a walk, his body jostling on top of her weight as they moved. His mind was blankly numb as he processed the morning. Johanna’s words tumbled through his head as they strolled along the barren path, nothing to console Louis aside from Athena’s steady breathing. 

“Alright, Love,” Louis patted the side of Athena’s neck and halted her. 

From underneath the layers on intertwined tree branches, was a slope that looked down on the harbor. Louis dismounted Athena and arbitrarily looped her reigns around the trunk of a nearby pine, fully knowing that she wasn’t going to trot away regardless. With a quick press of his lips against her shoulder, Louis wandered towards the edge of the gradient. 

Louis settled down on the ground, his back aligned with the bark of an old oak tree. His feet extended in front of him, the heels slowly sinking into the earth. He watched as an array of ships kissed the edge of the harbor, crewmen jumping off of the boats to secure their ships to the port. The cerulean blue waves of the Caribbean slapped against the wooden sidings and in the midst of it all, Louis wondered where his father was. 

When Mark Tomlinson was fifteen he joined The Royal Navy. At age nineteen, he was one of the youngest Commodore’s in the King’s fleet. Age twenty, he married Johanna Poulston and they had their first child, Louis Tomlinson. Since he turned twenty-one, Commodore Mark Tomlinson had been back to Kensington Harbor twelve times. 

Underneath Louis’ bed, there was a small iron chest. Inside the chest was a stack of letters sent from his father. Each one came from a different port, always dependent on where the Commodore had managed to come ashore. When Louis was younger, he showed off the letters and bragged that his father was “special” because he fought pirates. By the time he was fourteen, Louis stopped mentioning him altogether. 

The only thing Louis was thankful for when it came to The Commodore, was that every week, thirty shillings would be delivered to their doorstep. By the books, Mark Tomlinson was a respectable man who provided for his family. 

Hours molded together as Louis sat underneath the dense brush. His eyes remained on the horizon, his heart anchoring him to the spot even though he was due at the McKinley’s several hours earlier. The skyline morphed from sapphire to peach to navy. He impassively watched as the sun stripped the atmosphere and drooped past the ocean’s surface. The moon tore through the black sky and illuminated the town below. Oil lamps hung outside of stores, Kensington glowing with a lackluster of life. 

“Alright,” Louis mumbled to himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he took a deep breath. “Time to go.” 

Louis’ knees painfully cracked as he stood for the first time in hours, his face briefly contorted into discomfort. Athena was quietly gnawing on carrots that Louis had packed in his bag, her hooves scraping against the dirt as she nuzzled further inside the leather sack. He grabbed the bag off the ground and breathlessly laughed as she followed the movement with her nose still stuck in the bag. 

“You’ve had enough,” Louis reprimanded, his voice anything but hardened as he slung the bag over his shoulder. “Time to go to town.” 

Louis was about to mount Athena when he heard an earthshattering _boom_ from the port bellow. He paused with his hand firmly gripped on the horn of the saddle, his breath caught in his throat. The woods around him echoed the sound until it dissipated into nothingness. A shaky exhale cut through the sanctuary as Louis remembered to breathe. 

With his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, Louis tentatively turned his head towards the horizon. As his eyes peered from side to side, a deafening _bang_ pelted through Kensington Harbor. Louis scattered towards the edge, his feet tripping over an uprooted pine, sending him down against the earth. He groaned and bared his teeth as his body made contact with the grass. 

Crackling concrete erupted in the distance, causing Louis to lift his head in time to see a cannon breaching the town’s clock tower. Bloodcurdling screams riddled the air as the tower crumbled into the streets. Bile rose in Louis’ throat as he pushed himself off the ground. His knees buckled with the movement, nearly causing him to topple back over. 

The ringing of bells began to pulsate from the town’s keep. The throbbing sound of metal clashing against metal made Louis’ blood run cold. Bells signified that their town was threatened to go under siege. It was a sound that Louis had learned from his father’s letters and the worn pages of books tucked away in their study. 

It was the sound of invaders, the sound of pirates. 

Louis’ heartrate jackhammered inside of his chest as he sped towards Athena. He flung his body over her back and immediately kicked his heels into her flank. With a high pitched whinny, Athena began to cut through the trees. Louis hunched his back to keep his head underneath the low branches. A twig snagged the shoulder of his tunic, easily ripping the material and leaving a gaping hole behind. 

Another cannon speared into the night sky, the sound only spurring Louis to flick the reigns in his hold. Athena pushed faster, the sound of her hooves accompanying people’s cries of terror. Louis looked over his left shoulder, his jaw slackening as the edge of town was swallowed in orange flames. 

“Come on!” Louis shouted as he pressed Athena harder, his eyes locked on the mansion ahead. 

Stable hands were fleeing from the barn, their silhouettes barely illuminated. Louis steered clear of them, opting to ride directly to the front of the mansion. 

Louis pulled the reigns back as he bellowed, “Whoa, whoa there! Settle, Athena Settle now.” 

Athena reared back for a moment, her weight balanced on her hind legs. Louis’ whistled between his teeth as he roughly gripped her mane. She slammed back down, her movements jerky and restless as gunfire peppered the town. Without much thought, Louis released the reigns and let himself fall off her back. Immediately, he rolled over and ignored the sharp pain that shot from his elbow. 

“Sir, you – You need to get out of here!” the same stable hand from before shouted as he sprinted from the barn. “They’re coming, I know they’re coming.” 

Louis rose from the ground and gripped his shoulders, shaking the other man, “The girls, where are the girls?” 

His fingers were digging into the man’s skin, probably leaving faint bruises in his wake. Louis’ eyes were wild as he beseeched him. Flashes of his sisters and mother coursed through his mind like a torrent released from a dam. 

“I –” he started and then cut off as a gunshot was fired close by. He moved to get out of Louis’ grasp, his hands trembling by his side. 

Unceremoniously, Louis struck him with the back of his hand. The man’s cheek flushed ruby from the hit, his green eyes trained back on Louis.

“Please,” Louis brokenly gasped. He looked towards the horizon and watched in horror as fire engulfed half the town. “Please,” he repeated and loosened his hold a fraction, “Where are they?” 

The man swallowed, his throat visibly bobbing. He nodded and gripped Louis’ arm, “C’mon, Sir. Saw Ellen take them this way. Hurry up now, we haven’t got much longer!” 

Louis frantically nodded and followed the man towards the back of the mansion. His shoes scraped across the pebbles as they ran. At the back of the house, tucked behind a maple tree, there was a cellar. 

“There,” the man pointed, “In the cellar. It’s locked, though. No one’s getting in there.” 

“Like hell,” Louis scoffed under his breath. 

He ran towards the cellar. 

The underground safe house was guarded by two heavy wooden doors that locked from the inside. When he noticed that it was quiet behind him, Louis glimpsed over his shoulder to see the man stock still. 

“Are you coming?” Louis huffed out as he thudded his fists against the front of the door. “Charlotte! I know you have the keys,” Louis shouted as he continued to bang against the cellar doors. “S’Louis, come on!” 

The stable hand appeared by his side and helplessly tugged on the cellar’s handle. His skin was blotchy as he attempted to tug on the door. 

“It’s not going to open,” he panicked, his eyes the size of saucers as he stared at Louis. “We should have run, it’s not going to open.”

“Charlotte!” Louis screamed, his voice shot halfway through as he continued to slam his fists against the door. 

He was about to give up when he heard a faint _click_ from behind the door. Louis stepped back and clasped the other man’s shoulder.

The doors opened a fraction, “Louis?” 

“ _Charlotte_ ,” Louis wetly answered, emotion thickening his voice. 

He helped pull open the entry and then dragged the stable hand with him. Louis quickly shut the doors behind them and tugged on his bottom lip as he watched Charlotte secure the lock. He had barely turned around before a pair of arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

“Oomph,” Louis gasped as his mother squeezed him tighter. He held her close to his chest and tucked his nose into her hair, “It’s okay…It’s going to be okay.” 

She shook her head and sniffled back a humorless laugh, “You were gone all – You didn’t come back! Daisy saw the ship and said something about the sails, but I didn’t listen. And now...” 

At that, Louis slightly pulled back. He squinted his eyes as he looked towards the rest of the dark room. “Daisy?”

The small girl emerged from the back corner, her hands anxiously twisted behind her back. “I saw them,” she quietly said. “I watched from my window.” 

“It’s going to be okay,” Louis quickly reassured, steeling his voice to remove any room for doubt. “Pirates have been on this island before –”

“Not this one,” Daisy cut him off. 

Charlotte took a hesitant step towards Daisy, “What’d – What’d you mean? You know the ship?” 

Daisy nodded, her bottom lip worried between her teeth as her eyes welled up. 

Louis disentangled himself from their mother and dropped to his knees in front of his younger sister. He took Daisy’s petite fingers in his hands and pressed his lips against her cold skin. 

“What ship was it?” Louis quietly asked. He kissed her hands once more, “What’d it look like, Daisy?” 

“Red sails with the rose and dagger emblem.” 

Louis’ heart plummeted. 

_“Oi! What’ve we got here?”_

Everyone in the cellar stilled at the third party voice that thundered from above. Louis automatically tightened his hold on Daisy’s fingers. 

_“Plenty of shine I reckon. Let’s be quick, Captain’s not staying long,”_ an additional voice chimed in, the second one an octave lower than the first. 

Slowly, Louis raised himself off of his knees. He held an index finger to his lips and pressed the digit against them, signaling everyone to remain quiet. Daisy nodded and pressed her palm against her mouth. 

Louis carefully stepped as he ushered Charlotte and Daisy against the far wall. His eyes locked with Charlotte’s, fear and uncertainty reflected back towards him. Beads of sweat gathered above his upper lip. Félicité, Phoebe, Doris and Earnest were already tucked beside the cement, quiet tears openly streaming down Félicité’s pale complexion. Louis pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes lids, refusing to breakdown in front of his siblings. As he tentatively stepped away, their faces became diminished by shadows. 

Johanna stood in the center of the room. A sliver of her skin illuminated by a stream of moonlight that peeked through the doors. Louis stopped by her side, gingerly putting his hand on her forearm. Her almond shaped eyes darted away from the ceiling and locked on Louis’. 

“Go,” Louis mouthed as he gestured towards his sisters and brother. 

With a final glance towards the cellar door, his mother backed away. She carefully strode around the miscellaneous items that littered the floor. Louis’ uneasy breath stammered in the quiet confines of the room as his family faded into the darkness. 

_CRACK!_

Louis spun on his heel, heart lodged in his throat as his eyes settled on the stable hand. The man was slumped against the ground, a bookshelf covering the center of his body. His limbs were jutted out in unnatural angles, the sight making Louis’ stomach uncomfortable churn. 

A pained groan sounded from underneath the bookshelf. Louis bolted over to the man, just barely dodging a renegade can of spare paint as he dropped to the ground. He pressed his hand over the man’s mouth to stifle his slur of whimpers. The man shook his head, tears pricking his eyes as he attempted to shake of Louis’ hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis exhaled, his voice barely a whisper as he continued to press back the man’s screams. “You have to keep quiet.” 

With one hand still pressed against the stable hand’s mouth, Louis ripped off a section of his tunic. He stuffed the fabric against the man’s mouth, pressing it behind his teeth. 

“Bite down on it,” Louis instructed, only moving his hand when the man followed his instructions. 

The air around them was stifling as Louis dared to look up towards the cellar doors. 

_“Did you hear that?”_

Louis felt the color drain from his face. 

_Thwack._

_“Course I heard it! M’ not deaf you buggering idiot.”_

_“I was only checkin’ you heard what it was that I was hearin’!”_

_“Seeing as how I’m right next to you and you heard something, logic would assume, that I heard it too.”_

_“What if your hearing wasn’t all that good? Then what? If I didn’t say anything then you’d never know.”_

_“Well…”_

_“Aye, got you there, didn’t I?”_

_“I will put this pistol against your skull, don’t think I won’t.”_

There was a snort in response and a light scuffing of boots against gravel. Gradually, Louis stood upwards, his eyes locked on the set of doors as approaching footsteps grew louder. He was all too aware that if they were found, Louis had nothing to defend himself with. 

_“Well, well, would you look what we ‘ave here, Jenkins.”_

Louis took an automatic step backwards as a shadow shielded the crack in the door, the moonlight entirely retreating from the space. His mouth was dry as he listened to the two men pause in front of the cellar. 

Suddenly, the left door rattled as one of the pirates attempted to lodge it open. Louis slapped his hand over his mouth and bit into his palm. He watched the material shake underneath the pressure from outside. 

_“Looks like we’ve got some stragglers!_

The door roughly rattled once more before there was an exaggerated sigh. 

_“Y’know, I was saving this grenade for something a bit more special.”_

_“Oh, just get on with it!”_

There was a faint _ping_ of metal from outside and Louis immediately lunged away from the door. 

Louis’ shoulder bared against the concrete floor, his knees tucked against his chest as wooden doors splintered around him. His eardrums rung from the explosion, vision frayed as he blinked open his eyes. A large slab of the door landed by his right leg, the jagged material inches from his skin. 

“Bugger,” a deep voice hovered over Louis’ body, “Nothing more than a boy.” 

Fingers carded through Louis’ hair and roughly pulled back, exposing his throat and causing him to sputter out a breath. His pupils widened as something cold pressed against his neck. 

“Tell me,” the man patronized with his mouth next to Louis’ ear, “What did you plan on doing once we found you?” 

Louis flinched as the sword’s blade lightly caressed his skin. 

“Don’t want to talk to us?” the second pirate asked from just outside of Louis’ peripheral. “Shame,” he tutted with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Guess we’ll just have to gut you instead.” 

“Stop,” Louis gasped. 

“Ah, he can talk after all,” the first pirate chuckled. 

He pulled Louis upwards by his hair, releasing the handful of tendrils once he was standing. Louis’ face was scrunched in pain as he was shoved against the wall, his scalp aching and spine sore. With the tip of a blade pressing against his Adam’s apple, Louis opened his eyes. 

In front of him were two pirates. 

Both stood a few inches taller than Louis, their skin coated in grime and remnant gun powder. Their clothes tattered and expressions hardened. The pirate holding the blade had thin scraggly hair that was knotted back with a slip of cloth. Coarse black hair covered his jawline and Cupid’s bow, his deep brown eyes nearly molded with their black pupil. 

“Who lives here, boy?” the pirate asked, his head cocked to the side. 

Louis chanced a glance towards his right, the silhouette of his family barely recognizable amongst the rubbish and shadows. 

“I do.” 

The second pirate crowded towards him, his head shaved and glistening underneath the moonlight. He gripped Louis’ jaw and tilted his head from side to side, hazel eyes raking over Louis’ appearance. 

“You can’t be more than seventeen,” he said after a moment, his attention drawing up from Louis’ vest to his eyes. “Which means…” the pirate drawled out as a smirk stretched across his mouth, “There’s someone else living here. Aye, savvy?” 

“Eighteen,” Louis corrected, his throat bobbing underneath the steel. “My father lives here, too,” he easily lied. 

“And where’s he? Left his little lad all alone?” the first pirate questioned with a condescending glare. 

Louis brushed off the comment, ignoring the niggling feeling it left in his chest. “He’s in The Royal Navy,” he supplied as if it was enough of an explanation. 

The second pirate scoffed, “Right, and I’m the Queen, here to take back some of me earnings.” 

“What’s your name, boy?” the first pirate cut in with an expression less humorous than the other’s. His beady eyes peered at Louis as he waited for a response. 

“Louis Tomlinson.” 

Recognition flooded their expressions at Louis’ response, all trace of laughter eliminated from the confines of the cellar. 

“Tomlinson,” the first pirate slowly tested, the name thickly dripping off his tongue as if it was a spoonful of honey. “As in Commodore Tomlinson, I presume?” 

Hesitantly, Louis nodded. 

“I’ll be damned,” the second pirate leered, “Looks like you’re luck’s changing, _Mister Tomlinson_. You just might live out the night.” 

“What’d – What’d you mean?” Louis stuttered as the two pirates exchanged private grins with one another. 

“Ever heard of The Siren’s Scream?” 

****

Rope chaffed against Louis’ wrists, his shoulders uncomfortably strained as they were pulled behind him. His eyes stung with stubborn tears that refused to slip down to his cheeks. The only reason they didn’t fall was because he knew that his family was safe. The same family that Louis wasn’t likely to ever see again. With his heart constricted by his chest and his hands bound by thick rope, Louis was led to the harbor. 

His eyes raked through the pillaged town. Storefronts were shattered and ransacked of anything remotely valuable. The air was swarmed with a compilation of shrieking and laughter, the conflicting resonances creating a sickening harmony. Louis watched as a woman scurried out of a nearby bakery, her movements frantic as the windows of her shop shattered from a grenade. Four pirates piled out of the shop, their gravelly voices mimicking her screams as they pocketed new shillings. 

Anger replaced terror and Louis lunged towards the four men. The two pirates who captured him, Jenkins and Perry, immediately pulled him back. Louis thrashed against Jenkins’ chest, cringing at the feeling of the pirate’s hair against his collar. 

“Think you’re going somewhere, boy?” he purred against Louis’ neck. “Gonna kill some pirates like your father?” 

Perry roughly pressed the mouth of his pistol against Louis’ temple, “I’d think really hard about my next sentence if I was you.” 

The metal of the pistol was cold against Louis’ skin as his eyes darted towards the bakery. Forcibly, he relaxed his shoulders in defeat and shook his head. His hair fell over his eyes as his head lolled forwards. 

“I wanna hear ‘im say it,” Perry taunted as he shoved Louis forwards. 

Louis nearly tripped over, only remaining upwards because of the rope holding him back. He hissed in pain and dug his teeth into his bottom lip. 

“Bastard,” Louis spat out, his tone hardened and lowered an octave. 

“Oi! He’s got a mouth on him,” Jenkins whistled out with obvious amusement. “What would Commodore think about that? Years of being trained like a well-mannered pup, all down the drain the second he crosses with pirates.”

“Well, _Commodore_ isn’t here, is he?” Louis sneered as they approached the port.

His stomach lurched as they stepped on the docks. Merchant ships were blasted in the harbor, their scattered remains creating a graveyard on the water’s surface. Smoke and fog tangled together in the air as if they were sinister twins serving a reminder for what was lost. The crackling sound of burning wood filled Louis’ senses as he watched floorboards of The Inception drown in the ocean’s depths. The only ship that remained afloat, was a ship with red sails. 

Blood red sails that had an emblem Louis had only ever heard in stories. 

“Alright, boy,” Jenkin’s prodded the center of his back. “Into the jolly you go.” 

Louis’ attention was torn away from the rose and dagger embedded into the mast. His browed furrowed together as he crossed the dock, “Uh…” 

Perry scoffed, “He don’t know what a jolly is, do he?” 

“And you don’t know what proper grammar is, do you?” Louis shot back, ignoring the heat that tinged his ears. 

“Got you there, mate,” Jenkin’s snorted. He placed his hands on Louis’ shoulders and directed him towards a small row boat. “That,” the pirate emphasized with a firm pat, “Is a jolly.” 

“Jolly,” Louis quietly tested as he stepped towards the brown boat that gently rocked atop the waves. 

“Yes, _jolly_ ,” Perry sneered, not nearly as impressed with Louis’ wit as Jenkins. “Now get in the buggering boat before I decide to shoot you instead.” 

Without much grace, Louis shuffled into the boat. His balance was off-kilter because of his bound wrists. Jenkins was quick to follow after him, keeping Louis sturdy with a firm grip. He sat down on the middle thwart, sandwiched between the two men. Picking up the wooden oars, Louis anxiously watched as the men rowed them towards the massive ship. There was another boat being rigged up along the ship and Louis gaped as saw three prisoners being hauled off. 

“Meet, The Siren’s Scream,” Perry announced as they closed in on the ship. 

The hull of the ship was black, the onyx paint nearly camouflaged by the night. There was line of gold that trimmed above the bottom gun port. A thick stripe of red was painted over the top gun port, the line of black cannons threateningly on display between out of each window. Louis gaped at the Captain’s cabin, the vast barrel windows were entirely lined with shimmering gold. Flickering candles illuminated the room. Louis thickly swallowed as a flash of green material flitted across the panes. 

Louis felt like he was going to be sick as their boat got rigged upwards. His breathing was ragged and his hands clammy from a layer of sweat. Hollering voices got louder as they approached the deck. His eyes were pinched shut as he tried to normalize his heartrate. 

“What’ve you got there?”

The new voice caused Louis to open his eyes. 

A pirate was leering over the edge of the ship, auburn eyes raking over Louis. His thick black hair was pushed away from his olive skin and smudged charcoal rimmed eyes. Wrapped around his forehead was a red headscarf, the material frayed from the wind. He wore a black jacket over his white tunic, the material fitted against his lean frame. 

“Malik,” Jenkins greeted the man who was peering at Louis. “Trust me, Captain’s gonna want to keep this one.” 

“Don’t tell me what Captain will and won’t want,” Malik’s eyes hardened as they settled on Jenkins’. “Ten minutes on shore and it seems you’ve already managed to forget your place, Jenkins.” 

Louis’ eyes widened at the formality and dissonance that immediately settled between the two men. 

“Apologies, Quartermaster,” Jenkins slightly bowed his head, the corner of his jaw twitching from tension. 

The corner of Malik’s mouth twitched upwards, “Bring him up here with the others.” 

Jenkins nodded as his hands roughly fisted the back of Louis’ shirt. He shucked Louis over the bannister of the ship, sending him onto his knees from the brash movement. Louis grimaced as he gingerly got up from the deck. His body was in shock from the amount of trauma it had gone under during the past two hours. 

Perry guided Louis towards the other prisoners. There were three men on their knees in the center of the deck. Without being asked, Louis sunk into a praying position. 

“Would you look at that, he’s learning,” Perry patronized as he took a step away from Louis. 

Without thinking, Louis spat at his feet. 

“You little –” Perry gritted out, immediately closing back in on Louis with his sword drawn. 

Malik stepped between them, his pistol raised and aimed at the center of Perry’s forehead. The deck grew quiet, the massive crowd of pirates eagerly gathering in a circle to watch the exchange. Louis surveyed the crew, instantly overwhelmed at the sheer size. Without counting, Louis estimated that he was surrounded by at least one-hundred pirates. 

It was a motley crew, each individual having their own unique appearance. A few were missing limbs. Some had jackets while others weren’t even wearing boots. Their ages ranged drastically from early teens to late sixties. And for some reason, one that Louis couldn’t comprehend, they all seemed to _fit_ together. 

“You will not harm our guest,” Malik coolly said. “The moment he got onto this ship, he was no longer your responsibility.” He cocked the pistol and broadened his shoulders, “Don’t forget that I promoted you from a cabin swabbie and I can send you right back down.” 

Perry’s eyes darted to Louis on the ground, his cheeks flushed a furious red. 

“Aye?” 

Begrudgingly, Perry nodded, “Aye.” 

Malik nodded and slid the pistol back into his holster. He strode in front of the four kneeling men. Louis kept his eyes trained on the man’s boots, watching as the material scuffed against the wood with each step. The anticipation from the crew was building like a current and Louis was helpless under its pull. He was at the mercy of the crashing waves, mercy of a man who committed piracy.

Louis exhaled when Malik stopped in front of the man furthest in line.

“You,” he mused in front of the frail man, “What’s your name and why are you on this ship and not dead on the ground?”

Louis openly gaped at the bluntness. His throat dried as he subtly craned his neck to look at the first man. He looked completely average. Mid-twenties with an average build and average clothes. Without knowing him, Louis couldn’t see why a pirate would take him aboard. 

“I – Um, I’m James. James Shallot,” he stammered out. His pale skin looked sickly as he avoided making eye contact with the quartermaster. 

Malik crouched in front of him and steadily asked, “And my second question?”

James’ eyes searched the surrounding crew, looking for whoever had taken him as prisoner. Louis watched as his throat pitifully bobbed when nobody came forth to explain for him. 

Malik reached a hand out and lightly stroked his index finger against the man’s jaw. It could have been deemed as a caress if his next words didn’t follow shortly behind.

“If you can’t give me a reason why you’re still alive, you have no purpose here.” 

“I –”

Malik waved him off without batting an eye. He pointed at two burly men and then jutted his thumb over his shoulder, “Toss him.” 

“What! No!” James screamed as the two men advanced on him. 

Louis watched him attempt to struggle free from their hold, his legs kicking out as they heaved him towards the edge of the boat. 

“Please, please don’t do this! I’ll give you anything,” James sobbed, his chest ballooning with each breath. 

“I already have everything,” Malik easily answered. 

Without another word, the two men tossed James over the side of the ship. Louis flinched as he heard his body collide with the water. There was a possibility that he would make it to shore before exhaustion pulled him over. There was also the possibility that he couldn’t swim at all. 

Based on the rapid splashing of water and filtered screams, Louis guessed the ladder. 

“Now that you understand how this game is played,” Malik conversationally said as he paced in front of the remaining three men, “I suggest you answer both questions.” 

He stopped in front of the man to Louis’ right. Unlike the other two who came on board with him, he was not shaking. His face was surprisingly blank as he stared past Malik. 

Without being directly asked, he answered, “Steve Aoki, blacksmith.” 

Malik hummed, “Blacksmith, hmm?” 

“Yes.”

“Ever been on a ship before, Mister Aoki?”

“No.” 

Placing his hands on his hips, Malik looked at Steve with curiosity. “You don’t seem to be too worried about your current position, Mister Aoki. Either you’ve gone mad or you don’t value your life. Which would it be?”

“Neither,” Steve simply said.

“Neither?” Malik challenged as he palmed the grip of his sword.

“For six years I served as a blacksmith to the governor,” Steve began, a private smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “For six years, I’ve wasted my time on pleasantries with people who don’t deserve ‘em. I reckon this couldn’t be any worse.” 

Malik’s expression morphed from slightly irritated to impressed. His head lolled forward as a laugh shot out of him. The crew was quick to follow suit as they continued to survey their quartermaster. 

“You won’t get pleasantries from me unless you’ve earned them,” Malik responded. Light flickered over his eyes as he tacked on, “And I won’t expect them from you until I’ve earned them.”

Steve lowered his head in respect, a smile quirking the corner of his lips. 

“And you?” Malik asked the man on Steve’s right. 

“Burn in Hell,” he quickly spat back. 

A pleased grin stretched across Malik’s face, “Oh we’ve got a fiery one, mates!” 

The crew sniggered around them, a few already pulling their swords from their sheaths.

“Now, don’t be rude,” Malik tutted his tongue. 

“Says the pirate,” the man gritted out. 

“Ah yes,” Malik crouched in front of him and rested his elbows on his kneecaps. “But listen here, dearie. I might be the pirate, but look at which one of us is already passing judgement on the other.”

Louis watched as the man sputtered in response, obviously taken aback by the confrontation. 

Eventually, he lamely supplied, “I know enough.” 

“Enough to condemn me to Hell?” Malik challenged with his eyebrow quirked. 

“Well…” he stalled, his eyes darting around the crew who were gradually getting closer to him. 

“Do you want me to be as cruel as you expected?” Malik asked as he pulled out a dagger. He twirled the silver blade between his fingers, eyes never leaving the other man’s. “Do you want to feel pain? Feel something for the first time in your miserable cocked up life?”

The man’s eyes widened, the hard exterior he had built up crumbling around him as Malik pressed line the blade with his throat. Louis turned his head into his shoulder, refusing to watch what was about to take place on deck. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Malik quietly said, his voice barely comprehendible over the waves, “I’d rather you be wrong and rot in Davy’s Locker than gut you open like a fish.”

Quickly, Malik sprung from his position and jutted his thumb over his shoulder. The same two pirates from James’ sentence, jumped to action with matching grins on their faces. Louis watched as the man, whose name they never learned, was tossed overboard. 

“Last but not least, I’m sure,” Malik gestured grandly to the rest of the crew, earning a slew of cackles in response. 

Louis glanced towards his right to see Steve already looking back at him. Steve slightly narrowed his eyes and reassuringly tilted his chin upwards, conveying that Louis should do the same. With a deep breath, Louis mimicked his expression. 

“Do I need to repeat the directions or do you think you can manage to remember them?” Malik challenged as he spun towards Louis. 

With his chin jutted and lips pursed, he answered, “My name is Louis and I’m not dead on the ground because I’m Commodore Tomlinson’s son.” 

A gust of salty air pushed over the deck as the information resonated in the night sky. The only audible sound was the continuous wallop of waves wrecking against the ship. Louis kept his breathing even and his eyes locked with Malik’s, refusing to be the first to break. 

_“Now, that is interesting.”_

Malik’s head whipped towards the quarterdeck, his eyes wide as they settled by the wheel of the ship. Louis gawked as the entire crew bowed their head in respect. Some mechanically took a few steps back. Malik straightened his spine and clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes downcast. Instinctively, Louis followed suit and trained his eyes on the deck beneath his knees. 

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him. 

“Captain,” Malik greeted. 

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. 

There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it. 

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles. 

He easily towered over Louis, his wide brimmed hat shadowing his face from the moon’s glow. Plush white and black feathers accompanied one peacock feather along the left brim. Louis’ throat bobbed as he took in the emerald velvet jacket that hugged Captain Styles’ broad shoulders, the lavish material shimmering as it reflected the stars. 

His sheer tunic was black, as were his trousers and heeled boots. The tunic was loose against his chest, the material billowy and open to reveal a smatter of tattoos against the captain’s chest. Glittering along his digits were a collection of rings, each one impregnated with a precious jewel. Louis read that the captain collected them from victorious battles, each one a staple of pride and triumph. 

Captain Styles titled his head to the side, his blade reflecting the action. Louis let his head be maneuvered by the sword, too petrified to do anything else. 

“You’re lucky,” the captain drawled out, his voice low and syrupy as if it was dipped in thick treacle. “You look nothing like your father.” 

There was an amused tilt to his mouth as the crew erupted in laughter. Louis saw the slight impression of a dimple as it carved into the captain’s cheek, but it was quickly smoothed out.

“Quite pretty, actually,” Captain Styles patronized. 

Louis’ eyes widened at the blatant advance, spit catching in his throat as he attempted to swallow back an indignant response. 

Unfortunately, biting back any comment wasn’t in his nature. 

“Not sure if I should feel complimented or degraded, Captain.” 

Underneath the shadow of his hat, Louis saw Styles’ eyes glimmer with mirth. Green pierced through the dim light and speared into Louis’ chest. Even in the obscurity of the night, Captain Styles’ eyes reflected iridescent jade flecks. The color rivaled the gems that were secured around his fingers. 

“Tell me something, Mr. Tomlinson,” the captain practically crooned as he lightly trailed the tip of his blade against Louis’ jaw, “How does it feel to meet a pirate who has spent more time with the commodore than his own son?” 

Blood rushed to Louis’ ears as the words mocked him. The composure he held like shield disintegrated underneath the brash statement. Captain Styles’ lips jaunted at the right corner as smugness painted his expression. 

“Don’t know what you mean, Captain,” Louis uneasily exhaled. 

“Now, we both know that’s not true.” The captain tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Should’ve known you’d be a liar like your father. Would appear you do have something in common with the lying, worthless, swine.” 

Fire billowed in Louis’ gut with each word that fell out of the captain’s mouth. Anger that he had learned to repress was pulsating through his veins. 

Louis stood from his position and squared his shoulders in front of the captain. A collection of shocked gasps rung throughout the deck but Louis’ attention was narrowed on Captain Styles. Up close, he could see the details of his face that were marred from the shadows. 

His brown hair hung in thick curls, the tendrils licking against his collar bones. Hooked in his right earlobe was a cross earring. The metal caught moonlight as it gently dangled in the night breeze. He had a strong jaw and sunken cheeks. With plump rose petal lips and skin of ivory, Louis absently wondered why he cowered behind dim lights and velvet covered brims. 

“I’m not my father,” Louis lowly enunciated as he stood in front of the other man. 

Captain Styles’ eyes raked over Louis’, his gaze on the borderline of unnerving as it refused to waver. Without flinching, he cut the sword between them. The engraved metal pressed against Louis’ jugular as Styles took a step closer. Heat filled the small space between their chests and even though the blade was a fraction away from piercing his skin, Louis didn’t back down. 

“In that case,” the captain murmured, his eyes flickering down the slope of Louis’ nose and towards his lips, “Welcome aboard The Siren’s Scream, Mr. Tomlinson.” 

The captain spun around and stalked away, the sudden movement leaving Louis’ unsteady on his feet. Stumbling back a few paces, Louis ran into Malik’s chest and was easily pushed off. 

“Shackles for our newest additions,” Malik shouted as he fisted the back of Louis’ tunic. “Hurry up you sons of whores and gutter rats! To the brig with the sorry lot.”

Louis was jerked backwards, his wrists ensnared with biting metal cuffs. A pained hiss grated between his teeth as his skin was pinched between the metal. However, his eyes were stuck on Styles’ retreating figure as he strode towards the captain’s quarters. He didn’t look over his shoulder once to see the crew moving in mayhem on the deck. With a violent tug, Louis was forced to turn away. 

The two newest members of the crew were chucked into the brig below deck. Thick iron rods caged them as if they were animals and the air was potent with the smell of rotting wood. Louis crowded into the far corner, resting his forehead against the ship’s siding. His heart was thundering inside his chest as if it was about to collapse from over-exertion. 

“Commodore’s son, hmm?” 

Louis groaned as he opened his eyes to look at Steve. 

“Not you too.”

“Didn’t mean any offense,” the man shrugged and judging off of his pliant expression, Louis believed him. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Sorry,” Louis mumbled. He awkwardly shrugged his shoulder, “So…Are you really okay with being here?” 

A grin stretched across Steve’s face, “This is the most interesting night I’ve had yet.” 

It wasn’t an exact answer to Louis’ question, but it settled the nerves that had constantly been twisting at his gut. He slumped against the wood as he huffed out a laugh. Carefully, he situated his back so his hands weren’t too strained in the manacles. 

“That was brave of you. What you did up there.” 

Louis flushed at the compliment and fiddled his fingers behind his back. “Never been good at biting my tongue.” 

Steve chuckled and shook his head, “I see that.” 

Comfortable silence stretched between the two men. Eventually, Steve nodded off to sleep, his faint snores filling the space. Louis watched him for a few minutes until fatigue lulled his own eyes shut. Thoughts of his family and emerald jewels plagued his mind, the images intertwining as time passed. Exhaustion pulled at every inch of his being and as the ship gently steered through the Caribbean, Louis fell asleep.

****

“Alright ye bilge rats, off your arses!”

Louis jerked awake from the brash voice that bellowed outside the brig. He blinked his eyes open and grimaced at the uncomfortable pain that shot along his left shoulder. Without much grace, he ambled to his feet. Steve was quick to follow suit. 

Standing in front of the rod irons was a middle aged man with sunken eyes and choppy black hair. Wrinkles and a leathery tan made him appear older than he truly was. He pressed a bronze key into the lock and jostled them until the door was free. 

“Do ye need a formal invitation?” the pirate asked as he gestured for them to exit. 

Steve stepped out first and Louis quickly followed behind. He rolled his shoulders in attempt to loosen the taught muscles. A slew of voices drifted from the top deck as they filed up the narrow stairs. The sun was already climbing the length of the sky, pushing through scattered clouds that billowed above the ship. 

“Would you look at that lads, he can do something useful!”

Malik had his arms crossed over his chest as a few crew members chuckled in response. Louis thought he was referring to him until the pirate that collected them let out a frustrated huff. 

“Not useless,” he huffed under his breath. 

“Sorry,” Malik snapped as he took a few steps closer to the other man, “Did you say something, Cowell?” 

Louis could tell Cowell was biting back a smart remark by the way his jaw clenched. Instead he mumbled a begrudged, “No, Quartermaster.” 

Malik stopped a foot away from Cowell, his eyes dark as he glowered. An ugly smirk quirked his mouth as he lowly said, “You’re lucky to even be on this ship after abandoning the raid in Bermuda.” He pulled a dagger from its sheath and danced the blade across Cowells’ collar. “If it was up to me, you would have been sent to the gallows with a cannon strapped to ye.” 

“Alas, it was not your choice to make.”

Immediately, Malik pulled the blade away and his back stiffened. Captain Styles leisurely walked towards them, his expression a mixture of amused and unimpressed. 

“Aye?” he asked Malik, his right eyebrow cocked expectantly. 

Malik glanced at Cowell and then back towards his captain. He nodded, “Aye, Captain.” 

“Good,” Captain Styles approved. He carefully walked around Louis and Steve with his fingers intertwined behind his back. Louis kept his eyes trained on the captain as he circled the men like a shark does its prey. 

Louis noticed that his skin was freshly washed, the nights grime wiped away to reveal sun-kissed skin. In place of his hat, he wore a green headscarf. The light material pushed his curls out of his face and limply brushed in the wind as he paced. Sheer black fabric still covered his upper body but that morning, he wasn’t wearing his lush emerald jacket. Louis suspected he didn’t wear it unless he was in the process of a raid. 

“Mr. Aoki and Mr. Tomlinson,” he drawled out once he stopped in front of the two men. “Today I’m going to ask the both of you to do something that I asked all members of my crew.” 

The rest of the crew had halted their responsibilities, favoring to watch the spectacle unraveling in front of them. Louis’ stomach was twisted with anxiety but he refused to let it show on his appearance. He kept his back straight and attempted to look as dignified as possible given that he was still in shackles. 

“Kneel.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrowed as he unintentionally bit back, “M’ not going to kiss your boot.”

Delight flickered over Styles’ face, his teeth poking out as he bit a smile into his bottom lip. A light chuckle slipped out as he shook his head. His bottom lip flushed the color of blushing roses as it was released. 

“Sorry to disappoint Mr. Tomlinson, that’s not what I was going to ask.” He stepped closer towards Louis, his height causing the shorter man to slightly crane his neck to keep eye contact. “But,” he murmured a few inches from Louis’ face, “If I was to ask you to kiss my boot, you would do it. You would keep it up until I was satisfied because I am the captain of this ship and what I want gets done. It’s time ye put your pride aside, Mr. Tomlinson. It was taken from you the moment you came aboard.” 

“I’ll keep my pride until I take my last breath, Captain,” Louis gritted out as anger clawed his insides. 

Captain Styles dragged his index finger along Louis’ cheekbone, “Want to bet on it?” 

Louis jerked his head away from the pirate’s touch, earning a response of cackles from the captain the rest of the crew. Heat flushed against his neck as the captain’s degrading words reeled through Louis’ mind. 

“Might have to start adding that to our tradition gentleman” Styles mused as he tossed his head back and bellowed out a laugh. 

Steve stepped closer towards Louis’ side, “Don’t let ‘im get to you.” 

Louis nodded stiffly, “I know.”

“Louis,” Steve murmured beneath the chorus of laughter, “We’re in this together, yeah?” 

Tearing his eyes from the slope of the Captain’s Cupid ’s bow, Louis glanced at Steve. The other man offered him a reassuring nod and a faint imprint of a grin. Louis managed to find comfort in having someone by his side through the drastic new lifestyle he was bound to embark upon. 

“Yeah,” Louis agreed and returned the nod.

“Now that we’ve all had a good laugh from our little entertainer…” the captain taunted. Louis opened his mouth to spit back a response but Steve elbowed him in the side, effectively silencing him. Styles grinned, “Back to business.” 

“I won’t be having mutiny on my ship,” he bluntly stated, his tone not leaving any room for question. “I don’t have time for cowards or crew members who believe they’re better than the rest of the lot. Those who can’t comprehend that basic code will be made an example of.” 

Captain Styles narrowed his eyes as he glanced over Louis’ shoulder, “Speaking of cowards.” 

“ _Oh god_.” 

Louis’ brows furrowed as he glanced behind him to see Cowell’s face drain of color. His eyes were impossibly wide as a sickly green color pigmented his skin. By the time realization dawned on Louis, two crew members had their hands on Cowell. The captain’s laugh was full of mirth as he watched Cowell struggle in the pirates’ grasps. 

Malik stepped next to Louis’ side with an unabashed look of vengeance as Cowell was forced to his knees. His mouth was curled into a smile as he glimpsed at Louis and said, “I’ve been waiting days for this.” 

“What did he do?” Louis chanced to ask. 

“We were raiding a merchant ship in Bermuda, Mr. Tomlinson,” the captain answered. Louis’ head snapped towards him to see that his sword was brandished in front of him. “Why don’t you tell him what happened next you piece of filth?” Styles condescended before delivering a rough punch against the man’s jaw. 

Louis flinched as Cowell spat out a mouthful of blood. His back heaved as he puffed a few labored breaths. He was shaking his head back and forth, “M’ sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” Styles’ asked incredulously, roughly tossing his fist into the other side of Cowell’s jaw. “Tell me Simon Cowell, how does it feel to be responsible for the death of a crew member?”

“I didn’t –” 

The captain cut him off with a sharp kick towards his chest. “You didn’t kill Walsh, no, but if you were at your post instead of cowering below deck with the gutter rats, he would have had backup.” 

Cowell was openly sobbing as his head lolled forwards. “I – I didn’t mean it tuh ‘appen,” he rasped out between gasps, “Didn’t mean for ‘im to die.” 

“Well,” Styles said steadily as he lowered himself towards Cowell’s eyelevel, “I hope you know I mean for you to have the worst death imaginable.” 

As Cowell sputtered out a slew of unintelligible words, the captain pelted out a sharp wolf-whistle with his thumb and index finger against his mouth. “Bring me a bucket of chum, Payne!”

Louis gaped as a pirate barreled through the crew with a large bucket in his grasp. His thick muscles flexed as he settled the chum by the Captain’s feet. He has short brown hair and even underneath his simple tunic and trousers, Louis could tell he had an athletic build. 

“Captain,” Payne nodded respectfully. 

Styles clasped him on the shoulder and gave the other pirate a quick squeeze, “Would you like to do the honors since you found him?” 

Payne’s brown eyes flickered towards Malik as he shook his head, “All due respect, I think Zayn’s been dying to have a go at ‘im. Let him.” 

“Fair enough,” the captain snorted and then beckoned Malik to come closer. “Quartermaster, he’s all yours.”

Louis felt his stomach churn as Malik lit up beside him. He strode towards the bucket and hauled it into his grasp. Malik walked towards the side of the ship and dumped the contents into the sea. 

“I want you two to watch what happens to cowards aboard my ship,” the captain ordered as he flourished his hand towards the wooden banister. 

Cautiously, Louis walked around Cowells’ limp figure and to the side of the ship. There was a loud _slap_ against the water that had Louis halt his steps but made the crew maniacally laugh. Steve lightly nudged him forward with the toe of his boot. With a quick wary look towards the Captain, Louis leaned over the edge and gaped at the sight in the water. 

The cerulean water was stained from blood, the pigment drifting out to make an eerie ring around the gutted fish. Louis reared back but it wasn’t from the putrid smell of fish, it was from the three tiger sharks that were thrashing in the water. Their teeth gnashed as they frenzied from the scent of blood and taste of chum. 

“Christ,” Steve exhaled next to him. 

Louis stared at Malik’s pleased profile and felt bile rise in his throat. He shook his head, “You’re going to toss him in there, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” Malik responded with a completely unaffected tone.

“But –” 

Malik silenced him with a pointed look, “Before you judge me, Tomlinson, think about how I lost my mate because of what he did.” 

Louis shook his head, “Throwing him in a feeding frenzy isn’t going to bring him back.” 

“No,” Malik mused as he glanced at the sharks. He lightly patted Louis on the back and strode towards Cowell, “But it will make me feel better.”

“Please,” Cowell gasped as Malik pulled him upright by his hair. 

“I’m sure that’s what Walsh said before he died, too,” Malik spat. 

Louis backed away from the banister as Malik shoved Cowell onto the plank. The pirate stumbled slightly but managed to upright himself. The flimsy slab of wood was weakly bent from Cowell’s weight. Unable to watch what was to come, Louis pinched his eyes shut. He shuddered as a weight pressed against his back and a breath tickled the side of his neck. 

The captain loomed over him and had his nose against the corner of Louis’ jaw as he mumbled, “Does death scare you, Tomlinson?” 

“Only fools aren’t scared of death,” Louis answered, his voice surprisingly even to his own ears. 

The captain hummed, “Something the commodore taught you?” 

Louis flinched as Cowell lost his footing and slipped off the plank, his body crashing into the ocean below. He pushed the shrieks from his mind as he tilted his head, leaving an inch of space between himself and Styles. 

“No, that was my mother.” 

“Smart woman.” 

“She is.” 

It wasn’t long before the screams dissipated and molded into the sound of crashing waves and fins. Louis remained locked in his spot, the only thing anchoring him being the captain’s weight behind him. 

“Now that you both understand the severity of what I’m asking,” Styles began as he took a step backwards, “I am giving you both a choice.” 

Louis snorted, “We have a choice?” 

“You do Mr. Tomlinson,” the captain mused as he gradually pulled his sword back out from its sheath. “Your choice is to swear your service to me or be a coward and follow Cowell to his fate.” 

“Join your crew or be eaten alive?” Louis rolled his eyes, “Not much of a choice there, is it?” 

Captain Styles’ shook his head, “There’s a difference between joining a crew and swearing loyalty.”

“I’ll do it.” 

A crease settled on Louis’ forehead as he stared at Steve. He was calmly standing by his side with an expression that made him look almost stoic. Gingerly, he lowered himself to his knees. 

“Aye, there’s a good lad,” Styles approvingly said. He stepped in front of Steve and settled the tip of his sword on his shoulder. “Mr. Aoki, do you swear your fealty to me, Captain Harry Styles and by extension, The Siren’s Scream?”

“I do.” 

The captain lifted the blade and lowered it on Steve’s other shoulder, “Do swear your allegiance to this crew and forfeit the life you had before you came aboard?” 

“I do.” 

“And finally,” Captain Styles returned the blade to the original shoulder, “Do you swear to accept the punishment deemed necessary if you break your oath?” 

“I do.” 

“Well then,” the captain grinned as he removed the sword, “Welcome to the crew, Steve Aoki.” 

Malik helped Steve to his feet and unlocked Steve’s manacles. Louis’ own wrists ached as he watched Steve rolls his wrists and rub over the chaffed skin. 

“What will you be choosing, Mr. Tomlinson?” 

Louis looked back towards Styles as he crowded into his space. From their close proximity, Louis could make out golden flecks that illuminated the green of the captain’s eyes. His eyes were curious as we waited for Louis’ response. They were almost daring him to refuse the offer and walk the plank. 

With his tongue between his teeth and heart in his throat, Louis sunk to his knees.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...Originally this was going to be five chapters and now I've made it into ten parts. Oh well. 
> 
> Also, thank you for the kind comments so far! Please keep letting me know what you think, I love reading them. 
> 
> -Lis xx

“Welcome to the crew, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis’ eyes were focused on the floorboards of the deck as the captain’s words wound circles in his head. He thought about what he had given up by taking the oath. He thought about the family that was now permanently left behind. A family that he supposed didn’t need him anymore. In no time at all, Louis would be nineteen and on his own. He was supposed to have gotten engaged that morning. So, at least there was _that_ , going for his situation. 

However, it didn’t feed the aching feeling of longing that played his heartstrings.

Numbly, he rose from his knees. Louis’ fingers twitched as he felt Malik behind him, slipping a small key into the lock of the handcuffs. When the irons broke open, Louis immediately pulled his wrists towards his chest and rubbed his fingers over the sensitive skin. His shoulders agonizingly ached from being pulled behind him for hours on end. 

Malik clasped his should with a firm grip and slightly shook him, “Welcome.” 

“Right,” Louis grumbled as he rolled out the kinks in his wrists. 

“Don’t think I formally introduced myself.” 

Louis smirked, “You were a bit preoccupied threatening my life, so.” 

Malik unabashed grinned as he shrugged his shoulder, “Zayn, Zayn Malik.” 

Louis nodded, “I’d say nice to meet you…But I’m afraid if I lie, I’ll be thrown overboard.” 

The captain cackled out a sharp laugh, his cheeks ruddy from a mixture of sunlight and flush. “I don’t reckon I’ve ever met more of an impolite nobleman.” 

“Not a nobleman anymore, am I?” Louis pointed out.

There was a part of him that couldn’t help but challenge every word that slipped out of the captain’s mouth. It might have been that the statements directed towards him in the past day were all condescending, but still, he was usually a bit more civil. Louis decided to pin it on the fact he was captured so he had a right to be cross about anything and anyone involved.

“No,” Styles agreed with a contemplative look, “You’re not.” 

“S’not a pirate either. Well, not _yet_ , at least.” 

Louis frowned at the new voice, his eyebrows pulled together as he looked up towards the main mast. A glare from the sunlight marred his sight as he saw a lithe figure positioned on the main top with a rope gripped in their hand. He raised his hand and blocked out the sun as the figure ascended down the rope with practiced ease, steadily landing a few paces in front of Louis.

“Wait – But, you’re…You –” Louis floundered for words as he stared at the person in front of him. 

To be specific, it was a woman. 

Her lean figure stood at the same height as Louis, but her presence and countenance made her appear larger than life. Thick auburn hair was waved from sea salt and the Caribbean wind, the tresses bushing against the neckline of her burgundy tunic. The light material was slipped off her shoulders and slightly ruffled along the lining. Wrapped around her forehead was a blue headscarf with a faded paisley pattern. Charcoal surrounded her almond eyes, making her brown irises glisten like honey in the sunlight. 

An embroidered corset settled over her abdomen, the black material ribbed with gold detailing. A coordinated paisley vest was slipped over her shoulders but not fastened. Her legs were confined by black trousers and knee high leather onyx boots. An ornately decorated sword handle peeked out of its sheath, the gold daunting as it glistened back at Louis. 

“If you stare any harder,” The woman drawled out as she purposefully fiddled with the head of her sword, “I’ll feel obligated to string you up along the foremast.”

Louis blanched, “I didn’t mean any disrespect m’lady, I –”

“Bad idea,” Captain Styles snorted from next to him. 

Before Louis could register what was happening, there was a sharp pain in his jaw. He cringed as he brought his fingers towards his bottom lip and saw blood when he pulled the digits away. 

“ _Did you just kick me?_ ” Louis incredulously barked. 

The woman cocked her hands on her hips as she smirked back at Louis, “Aye.” 

“What the hell did you do that for?!” Louis blanched, his hands slightly flailing as he looked between the captain and the woman. 

“Do I look like someone who wants to be called _m’lady_ , Tomlinson?” 

Louis gaped, “But you are a –”

_Thwack._

“Stop bloody kicking me!” Louis snapped as he spat out mix of saliva and blood residue.

The woman looked at him unimpressed, “I wouldn’t have to if you stopped calling me a lady.” 

Louis roughly pulled at hair and let out a frustrated groan before settling on, “I didn’t even say it that time!” 

“Aye, but you were going to,” Styles mused. 

“Fine,” Louis gritted through his teeth. “I was staring because I was wondering what a _woman_ was doing on board a sodding pirate ship.” 

“You’ve got a filthy mouth when you’re frustrated,” The captain grinned as he lethargically rested his back against the main mast’s shroud. The netted rope cradled his weight as he settled against the material. “And she’s aboard this ship because she’s my sister and master gunner, Tomlinson.” 

Louis blanked as he stared between the woman and the captain, mentally cataloguing the newfound information. As his eyes flicked between the two, he could see how they were related. Both had similar facial features although the woman’s were a hint slighter. They both also had the ability to get a rise out of Louis so he believed it to be a familial trait. 

“Your sister?” Louis stupidly deadpanned. 

“Gemma Styles,” The woman introduced herself. She stepped closer towards Louis gave him an uninterested once over, “You can call me Gemma or Master Gunner. If you even think about calling me m’lady, I’ll have your balls faster than you can blink. Aye, savvy?” 

“Yes,” Louis uncomfortably swallowed. He cleared his throat and amended, “I mean, um, aye…Master Gunner.”

A dimple dipped into her cheek as she patronizingly patted Louis on the shoulder, “There’s a good boy.” 

Louis gawked as she flitted away and began barking out orders to nearby crew members. Gradually, he turned back towards the captain to see him already staring back, a smile bit between his teeth. It was then that he realized Steve and Zayn were no longer by his side. 

“What happened to Steve?” Louis briefly panicked as he frantically checked the deck. 

“You’re paranoid.”

Louis snapped his head towards Styles, “It’s a bit hard to not be paranoid when you’ve been taken captive, Captain.” 

Styles rolled his eyes, “You’re not a prisoner anymore. Stop playing the part.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Louis muttered under his breath. 

“Mr. Aoki is with my head rigger, Edward Sheeran. He’s learning his duties that he will take on while he serves as a member of my crew.”

Louis carefully stepped next to the captain and leaned back against the shroud. His eyes locked on the horizon as he said, “Rigger? Would have suspected something with artillery since he was a blacksmith.”

“Aye, one day, perhaps,” The captain nodded as he folded his arms over his chest. “Everyone earns their position on my ship, Mr. Tomlinson. I don’t know ‘im and I don’t know his ability.” 

Louis eventually nodded in understanding, “That…Makes sense, I suppose.” 

“You suppose?” Styles nudged Louis in the side as a private grin tilted the corner of his mouth. 

An inexplicable flush painted his cheeks as he nudged the captain back. He dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, “Yes, I suppose.” 

“Also, you’ve met my sister,” The captain jutted his chin towards the bowsprit where she was balancing on the toes of her boots, “Wouldn’t want to put anyone in her responsibility who couldn’t handle it.” 

Louis openly laughed at that, the skin by his eyes crinkling as he mindlessly thumbed his sore jaw. “Has she always been that welcoming to strangers, Captain?”

Styles snorted, “Always.” 

A silence stretched between them and Louis was oddly at peace as he watched the gentle ripple of waves that pulsated across the ocean’s surface. 

“Pardon,” Louis began and then mentally kicked himself for the rehearsed formality, “Um, but if Steve is a rigger…What will I be doing?”

“I’ve just killed the man who was my cabin boy,” The captain pushed himself off the roped netting. He smirked as he faced Louis, “So the position is open.”

“You’re asking me to be your cabin boy?” Louis grimaced at the words as they fell out of his mouth. 

The captain began to walk towards his cabin, his fingers flicking over his shoulder as a gesture for Louis to follow him. Louis followed behind the man, keeping a few paces between them as they approached the wooden doors. 

Styles pulled open the doors and he had a serious expression as he cocked his eyebrow at Louis, “I’m not asking you, Tomlinson. I’m telling you.” 

Blood rushed to Louis’ cheeks as he stepped past the captain and entered the cabin. He folded his hands behind his back and mumbled, “Right.”

The captain’s quarters were lush in comparison to the rest of the ship. In the middle of the room was a grand table with maps and worn documents spread along the wood. Three mahogany chairs surrounded the table, each one ornately carved and covered with maroon velvet cushions. Scattered across the surface were a few red wine bottles and a nearly empty bottle of spiced rum. 

As Louis’ gaze dragged across the quarters, he caught on to a theme. Stretched over the floor was a lavish carpet, the material soft and stitched with roses intertwined with thorny vines. The candelabra that rested upon a dresser was engraved with blushing rose petals. A floral perfume filtered through the space from bundles of red roses that were precariously situated in golden vases. 

“You really stick to a theme, don’t you?” Louis murmured as he thumbed over the lip of the table. 

“If you mean the roses,” The captain crossed the room and pulled out the chair situated at the head of the table, “Then yes, I do.” 

Louis hesitantly hovered by the table until Styles gestured for him to take the adjacent seat. The cushion was soft against his thighs and back as he settled. 

“Can I ask why you chose the rose and dagger emblem?” Louis chanced as he fiddled with his fingers in the lap. 

“You can ask anybody any question you’d like, Tomlinson,” The captain mused as he passed a handful of blank sheets of parchment towards Louis and then a fine quill and ink bottle of ink. “What you should be cautious about, is if it is a question that is appropriate to ask said party. Would the question earn you a lashing or a well thought out answer.”

The captain rested back against his chair and raised his legs so his feet rested across the table. He grabbed the nearby bottle of rum while his ankles comfortable crossed. He took a swig from the bottle and Louis watched as the dark liquid sloshed inside of the glass container. 

Styles smacked his lips when he swallowed and looked at Louis questioningly, “So?” 

“Um, so…What?” Louis stuttered uncomfortably. 

“Was your question appropriate or not?” He asked, resting the bottle on the table and stretching his hands behind his head. 

Louis’ brows furrowed together, “I thought it was.” 

“Why?” The captain provoked. 

“Um.”

“If you can’t explain the reasoning for a question, it’s not a question to be asking.” 

Louis paused for a moment as he carefully thought of his response. The captain wasn’t just challenging him, was the thing. He was clearly trying to teach Louis the semantics of being a part of this world. 

“As a part of the crew,” Louis thoughtfully began, “I would assume it’s my responsibility to know everything about the ship and by extension, within reason, my captain.” 

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them before Styles gave him an approving nod, “Good answer.” He passed the bottle of rum towards Louis and rolled his long fingers in the air, signaling for Louis to take a pull.

Louis bit back a proud smile as he raised the lip of the glass towards his mouth and tilted the bottle back. He took a generous swig of the rum, a pleased trill sinking in his gut as the liquid coursed down his throat. He passed the bottle back towards the captain. 

“Do you know what a dagger alone stands for?” The captain questioned. 

“Well…Just fighting, I assume?” 

“How about a rose?” 

“Roses symbolize beauty,” Louis confidently answered. He shrugged as he tacked on, “My mother taught me that.” 

“Aye, they do,” Styles nodded. “Put together, what do they mean?”

“Fighting for beauty?” Louis tried as his nose scrunched in slight confusion.

“There are beautiful things in this world, Louis,” The captain intently stated, his countenance thoughtful and serious as he regarded him. “Some of these beautiful things, the ones we hold closest to our hearts, are worth fighting for.” 

“And what are you fighting for, Captain?” 

The other man shook his head and raised the rum a last time, “Seems you’ve already forgotten your first lesson, Mr. Tomlinson.”

Louis lowered his head, feeling genuinely embarrassed for the personal question. “Apologies,” He said for the second time in the confines of the captain’s quarters. 

“What are your talents?” 

“Excuse me?” Louis’ head snapped back towards the captain. 

“And here I thought that was an easy question,” Styles’ eyes were full of mirth as he stared back at Louis. 

“Well,” Louis cleared his throat when his voice unintentionally cracked, “Um, I’ve been taught maths, piano, basic French –” 

The captain cut him off with the sharp sound of his bottle colliding with the table top. Louis flinched backwards as he watched the man pinch the bridge of his nose, annoyance emanating from his posture. 

“Something actually useful, Tomlinson,” He groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face in exasperation. “I meant talents that would help you on this ship.” 

“Oh.”

“Have you sailed before?”

“No.”

“Do you know how to use a sword?” 

“Um…Not particularly, no.” 

“Can you navigate?”

“I’ve never been on a bloody ship before, what makes you think I’d know how to navigate one?!” 

Louis’ chest was quickly rising and falling as he glared at the other man. Humiliation was tinging his cheeks pink, but he refused to be made a fool of by the pirate. It wasn’t that he was inept or uneducated, far from it. He didn’t appreciate feeling degraded by someone else, captain or not. 

The captain stood to his feet and set his hands on the lip of the table, his back arching as he glowered at Louis. He shook his head and stared down at documents on the table, his eyes unmoving. 

“You need to learn respect,” Styles eventually said. He raised his neck and locked eyes on Louis. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you here, Tomlinson.”

“By pointing out everything I can’t do?” Louis spat as he kicked back his own chair and stood to his full height. “You think that’s helpful, Captain?” He incredulously asked. 

“Get out of my cabin before I give you a lashing.” 

Louis snorted and put his hands on his hips, “And where would you like me to go, your liege?” 

He was acting out of line and he fully recognized it. All of the pent up anger he had accumulated the past day had hit a boiling point. Since the prior morning, everything had been taken out of Louis’ control. Even prior to being abducted, decisions were being made for him. If he wasn’t taken aboard, he would have been forced into a marriage he didn’t want. The scariest part, something Louis would never admit, was that he wasn’t sure if he would have rather gotten married or become a pirate if he was given the choice. The thought alone was nauseating.

Styles put his fingers against his lips and let out a sharp wolf whistle. His eyes remained on Louis’ as the door flung open. Louis glanced at the entry and saw that it was Payne standing in the doorway. He rounded towards the table and paused a foot away from Louis, his expression lax in comparison to the other two men. 

“Captain?” He asked with his hands folded behind his back. 

Louis eyes widened and he shook his head, “Don’t give me a lashing.” The captain’s mouth was settled in a firm line as he glared at Louis. “Please,” Louis continued to shake his head, “Look, I won’t step out of line again. I won’t.”

“You need to learn humility,” Styles responded. 

“I can,” Louis immediately chirped, his eyes flitting between Styles and Payne. 

The captain nodded towards Payne, “Brig.” 

Louis sighed in relief, his head lolling forward as he felt sturdy hands clasp his shoulders. 

“Make no mistake, Tomlinson,” Styles lowly said, causing Louis to meet his eyes, “If you can’t learn respect, I’ll toss you as easily as I did Cowell.” 

Louis weakly nodded, “Right.” 

“Get him out of my cabin,” He ordered Payne and then turned away from Louis. 

“C’mon,” The pirate gruffed as he pulled Louis with him. 

Louis easily went, not wanting to cause more problems than he already had. He watched the captain as he stepped in front of his barrel windows, his spine taught from tension and his fingers roughly raking through his hair. A niggling feeling tugged at Louis’ chest as he was tugged out of the cabin. 

The crew watched with curious eyes as Payne shuffled them below deck and towards the brig. Louis stepped into the cage and let out a frustrated groan as he gripped the iron bars. At that point, he wasn’t been sure what he was most frustrated about. Being captured? Being forced into piracy? Or having already been proven to be a disappointment? 

“Some advice, savvy?” 

Louis glimpsed at Payne and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as the pirate observed him. 

“Might not seem it now, maybe not even a fortnight from now,” He started, a faint sympathetic smile ghosting his lips as he spoke, “But of all the motley crews, yer lucky to be in this one.”

“Lucky?” Louis humorlessly laughed. 

“Aye,” He responded seriously. “You pull that with any other captain in the Caribbean and they would ‘ave skinned you.”

Louis bit back a smart remark and sighed instead, “I know.” 

“Don’t think you do, savvy.” 

“It’s Louis,” He supplied and weakly smiled at the other man, not sure how else to respond. 

“I know,” The man smirked and began to walk away. He paused on the steps and glimpsed over his shoulder, “Liam Payne.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Louis responded. 

He was surprised that he meant it. 

****

Time was a foreign concept when confined to a remote space. Louis was sprawled out on his back, his arms spread wide as he stared at the wooden planks above him. Voices infiltrated the space from the top deck but they were all muffled by waves and walls. His spine was painfully digging into the floorboards, but he was thankful that his wrists weren’t retrained. A faint creaking sound caught Louis’ attention. He rested his weight on his elbows and squinted as a figure descended the staircase. 

An oil lamp flickered to life, illuminating Zayn’s face. 

“Oh,” Louis sighed as he shuffled to his feet. 

“Thrown in the brig on the first day?” Zayn smirked as he hung the lamp on a hook by the brig. “That might be a record, Tomlinson.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Didn’t do it on purpose.” 

Zayn snorted as he removed a bag from his shoulder. “You’re lucky,” He drawled out as he unlocked the brig and immediately tossed the satchel inside.

“That’s what people keep telling me,” Louis grumbled, his eyes focused on the bag that sat lamely on the floor. “What is it?”

Without another word, Zayn locked the brig and walked back towards the stairs. Louis watched in disbelief as he was blatantly ignored and left alone. 

“Bastard,” Louis huffed, sitting back on the ground and hauling the satchel into his lap. 

The first thing he pulled out of the bag was a thick leather flask filled with water. Louis immediately guzzled a third of the container, obscenely moaning as his thirst was quenched after a day in the heat. Underneath the flask was a bundle of parchment held together by a sleek black ribbon. Louis thumbed the silk before tugging it loose and unraveling the parchment. He frowned as a small piece of parchment fell from the group.

 _Every ship has a code, best you learn ours by dawn._

Louis’ nose scrunched as he muttered to himself, “Gets captured by pirates and still has to study.”

**** 

“Good luck.” 

Louis looked at Liam and weakly smiled in response. The satchel was heavy over his shoulder as he stood in front of the captain’s quarters. He gripped the bag tighter and hesitantly knocked his knuckles against the door. 

He had spent the night holed up in the brig with pages of parchment scattered around him. Each page was inscribed with different laws to abide by as a part of The Siren’s Scream’s crew. Louis was mildly impressed that it was not only well constructed, but that the captain had taken the time to create it at all. 

“Come in.” 

With a deep breath, Louis pushed the door open. He let it shut behind him and remained rooted in his spot, his fingers anxiously thumbing over the strap of the satchel. The captain was at the table, fingers lightly trailing over a map. 

Without looking up, Styles said, “Article Four.” 

Louis’ jaw drooped, “Captain?” 

“Article Four from the Siren’s Codex,” Styles sighed and looked up to meet Louis’ eyes with an unimpressed glare. “What does it state?”

“Oh,” Louis’ eyes pinched shut as he mentally combed through the articles he read. He opened his eyes and hesitantly recited, “He found guilty of cowardice in the time of engagement will suffer punishment issued by the captain.” 

“Article Seventeen.” 

Louis took a step closer towards the table, “Standard compensation is provided for maimed or mutilated crew members.” 

“Good.” The captain reached towards his belt and purposefully withdrew an ornate dagger, “Article Thirty-Nine.”

“Article Thirty-Nine,” Louis swallowed as Styles gradually closed the distance between them, the dagger rotating between his hands. 

“Article Thirty-Nine,” The captain repeated, stopping a foot from Louis. 

“Every man shall obey the captain in all respects.” 

“Aye,” He quietly said as he brought the tip of the dagger against Louis’ throat. “The last article, Mr. Tomlinson?” 

Louis’ eyes briefly closed as the metal grazed his skin. When he blinked them open, the captain was hovering a few inches above him. His eyes were heavy as they raked from Louis’ and down the slope of his Cupid’s bow, resting on the lush of his lips. Instinctively, Louis wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. 

Styles quickly gripped him by the hair along the nape of his neck, tilting his head back so his throat was exposed. Louis’ breath stuttered as their chests pressed together and the captain flattened the blade against his neck. His arms hung limp by his side as the metal faintly bit into his skin.

“Article Forty,” Louis murmured with his eyes sinking into Styles’, “Every person who offends these articles shall be punished with death or in such other manner as the crew sees fit.” 

“What say you?”

“I gave you my word, Captain,” Louis whispered. 

The captain minutely nodded, “That you did.” 

Louis’ heart rabbited in his chest as he felt a guttural need to rock forward on the sole of his boots. He nearly did until the fist in his hair loosened and the blade was lowered. The captain took a step backwards and then fully turned around, completely unaffected by the affair. 

“Set the codex on the dresser,” He gestured towards the piece of black furniture against the wall. He sat at the table and went back to studying the stretched map. 

“Yes, Captain,” Louis dazedly mumbled as he stepped towards the dresser. 

“When we’re in my quarters,” The captain drawled out, causing Louis to turn around and face him, “You can call me, Harry.” 

Louis’ jaw slackened as he pulled out the bundle of parchment from the satchel. He stared at the other man for a moment and eventually nodded, “Harry.” 

He turned back towards the dresser and bit back the pleased smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Settling the codex on the surface of the dresser, Louis hesitated in place. 

“So, um, what do I do now?”

Harry slid a stack of parchment across the table, “To be good at your job, you need to know your way ‘round the ship. Study these and get yourself well acquainted with the terminology.”

Louis nodded, “Do you want me to take these back to the brig?” 

“I’m not going to send you back down there unless you give me reason to,” Harry’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Sit here. That way if you have questions, which you probably will, you can ask.” 

Pulling out the chair across from Harry, Louis gingerly sat down. He began scanning the documents, reading about the different roles of the crew, parts of the ship, and general navigation skills. The material was significantly more interesting than anything he had to learn in his lessons with a private tutor. As the minutes molded into hours, Louis began to settle in Harry’s quarters. 

His chin was tucked on top of his knees as he cuddled into the backing of the chair. Blindly, his fingers danced across the table. Louis frowned, his eyes still locked on a diagram of different rudder heads. He leaned forward, fingers stretching out and meeting nothing. It wasn’t until there was muffled laughter from across the table that Louis looked up. 

Harry had his fingers wrapped around the stem of Louis’ goblet and he was slowly inching it towards himself. A dimple carved into his left cheek as a smirk played across his lips. Louis jerked forward and pulled the glass of wine out of the captain’s hand. 

“You’re getting really into this, savvy,” Harry laughed as he gestured towards the parchment in Louis’ lap. “Have to admit, I’m surprised.”

“I am _not_ interested,” Louis insisted as he lifted the goblet and took a swift pull of the red. “I just want to be good at my job, Captain.” 

“Back to Captain, are we?” He grinned. 

Louis shrugged non-committedly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watched Harry thumb across the same grouping of coordinates.  
“So…” Louis drawled out, gaining Harry’s attention again, “What’re you doing?”

Harry looked at him with slight hesitance and for a moment, Louis wondered if he had already overstepped his bounds. Louis’ fingers subconsciously toyed with the hem of his tunic as he waited for the captain’s response. 

Eventually, Harry asked, “What do you know of ship raids, Louis?”

Louis tilted his head from side to side, “Aside from the general purpose, I’m afraid not much.” 

The captain nodded as his eyes drifted back towards the map, “That’s what I thought.”

“But,” Louis added quickly, faintly flinching at the desperate tone layered over his voice, “I mean, you could teach me? My tutor back in Kensington told my mother I’m a fast learner.”

“I bet you are,” Harry murmured as his lips twisted into a smirk. 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Must you make everything sound like an advance, _Captain_?”

“I must when it seems to get you flustered every time I do.” 

He was leaning forward with his elbows against the surface of the table, his chin cushioned against the heel of his palm. Harry’s brows quirked as his gaze slowly trickled down from Louis’ eyes towards the plush of his mouth. Louis narrowed his eyes in response, his own arms snugly crossed over his chest, forcing himself to fight off a blush. 

“You’re confusing getting flustered with annoyed,” Louis snorted. He cocked his head to the side, “There’s a difference, Styles, and I urge you to learn it.” 

Harry opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut as he was cut short from a brash knocking against the door. Louis’ attention drifted from the captain and towards the cabin door as another sharp knock rattled the wood. 

“Aye?” The captain irately shouted. 

The door slowly pushed open to reveal Zayn standing in the entryway. He glimpsed at Louis and then settled on the captain, taking a few steps into the cabin.

“The barrels have been rolled to the deck, Captain.” 

“And the crew?” 

“Settled, Sir.” 

Louis frowned as he looked between the two men, “What’s happening?” 

Harry pushed his chair from the table and Louis was slow to follow suit, confusion still blatant on his expression. He rounded the table when Harry flourished his hand towards the direction of the door, his rings faintly glimmering from the light of a nearby oil lamp. 

“We’re having a banquet, Mr. Tomlinson,” he answered as he lightly pressed his hand against Louis’ lower back, subtly leading him out of the room. 

“Pirates have banquets?” Louis snickered in disbelief. 

Zayn quickly smacked him upside the head, his movements quick but hardly painful. “Aye, you prick. Got something smart to say about it?”

“No,” Louis spat back as he rubbed is temple. As they strode towards the deck, he murmured, “Just surprised is all.”

Stretched across the deck were five long dining tables. Candles lined the center of the wooden mass, illuminating the space in a hazy ambiance accompanied by the sound of rustling waves. Every member of the crew was pressed shoulder to shoulder along the tables, their voices loud as they co-mingled with one another. Louis mouth watered as he took in the spread of cooked food along the tables.

Harry took his seat at the head chair along the center table. Naturally, Zayn settled into the seat towards his right, immediately filling his goblet with wine from a pitcher. Louis anxiously pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he scanned over the tables looking for an empty chair. Preferably, Louis wanted to find an empty chair between men who had all of their appendages. 

“Oi! You landlubber twat, come sit o’er here!”

Louis gingerly turned towards his right and saw a man waving him over. The pirate was not much older than him, his boyish face ruddy from the half empty rum bottle grasped in his hand. With a lopsided smile and blue eyes full of jollity, he waved his hand once more. 

“Hello,” Louis cautiously greeted as he sat in the empty seat to the man’s left. 

Without much grace, the man shoved the bottle of spiced rum into Louis’ hand. He clasped Louis on the shoulder and chirped, “Looked like you could use a drink, mate.” 

The corner of Louis’ mouth turned upwards as he took a large pull from the bottle, humming around the lip of the glass. He cleared his throat as he passed the bottle back to the man. 

“I did,” Louis nodded and then grabbed a dinner roll from the center of the table. He glanced at the other man, “Thanks, uh…” 

“Niall Horan,” He extended his hand towards Louis, “Sailing Master.” 

Louis shook his hand, “Louis Tomlinson. Uh, Captain’s Cabin Boy?”

A loud cackle shot out of Niall’s mouth, his irises twinkling underneath the glow of the candelabra. He shook his head, a blonde tuff of hair falling in front of his forehead from the motion. Niall flicked it away as his laughter tapered off. 

He passed Louis a fresh bottle and snorted, “You’ll need that more than I thought, landlubber.” 

“What do you mean?” Louis anxiously asked, immediately popping the cork off the bottle and downing a mouthful of the liquor. 

Niall bit into an apple, a few beads of juice dripping down his chin. He swallowed and turned towards the head of the table, Louis easily following his train of sight. Harry sat at the end of the line, his head lolled back as laughter rolled through his body. Zayn was grinning into his goblet as Gemma looked unimpressed towards the captain’s left. 

“Listen ‘ere,” Niall started, effectively dragging Louis’ attention away from the junction of Harry’s neck. “Styles is a just captain. He’s a loyal man to his crew,” he firmly stated, sincerity and respect thickening his tone. 

Louis’ brow furrowed as he slowly shook his head in agreement, “I see that.” 

“Aye,” Niall nodded and took another bite from the apple. He swallowed and tacked on, “Which means he’d do anythin’ to protect his crew.”

“Not sure what this has to do with me tending to his cabins,” Louis mumbled as he spooned stew into a bowl and shoveled a bit into his mouth. He made a pleased noise as he tasted cooked fish, vegetables, and potatoes mixed with warm broth. 

“Answer me this riddle, Tomlinson,” Niall pointed his fork towards Louis. His eyebrows rose as he asked, “Who hunts pirates?” 

“The Royal Navy,” Louis carefully answered, his volume unintentionally lowering.

Niall hummed as he looked pointedly at Louis, “And whose father is a commodore of The Royal Navy?” 

Louis’ eyes darted back to Harry as he said, “Mine.” 

“Aye.” Niall lightly dug his elbow into Louis’ side to get his attention before he continued, “So why d’you suppose he wants to keep you so close to ‘im? You’d be an awfully big liability running around.” 

“He made me cabin boy so he could look after me as if I was some puppy?” Louis gritted out as heat flushed through his body, an ugly feeling stirring in his stomach as he stared at the pirate.

“Like I said,” Niall gestured towards the bottle of rum in Louis’ grip, “You’re gonna need that.” 

Once more, Louis turned towards the head of the table. Harry was already staring back at him, his lips slightly pursed as he fiddled with a golden goblet between his fingers. Niall’s words repeatedly played over and over in Louis’ mind as he watched Harry gingerly cheers his goblet towards him. Louis narrowed his eyes as he lifted the bottle of rum and chugged a fifth of its contents. The liquid burned his throat but he pushed the feeling down as irritation settled inside of him. Harry intently watched him with his lips in a taught line as Louis roughly put the bottle back on the table. With a challengingly raised brow, Louis broke their eye-contact and turned towards Niall. 

“Captain’s got another thing coming if he thought he could keep me like some pet.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the support so far. I love reading what people have to say so please, keep commenting and leaving kudos if you are enjoying the fic!
> 
> -Lis xx

As food cleared from the dining tables and the barrels of ale steadily emptied, the crew became rambunctious. Louis watched as hard exteriors were shed and replaced with blood rushed cheeks, loose-lipped smiles, and boyish banter. The moon hung above The Siren’s Scream, its ivory glow illuminating the rowdy pirates below. 

At some point, two guitars were brought up from below deck. Niall was quick to swipe one of them, his fingers easily plucking the strings even though his eyes were reduced to small drunken slits. Louis had his arm slung around Niall’s shoulders, slurring along a melody to a song he wasn’t sure even existed. A stocky ginger was perched by Niall’s other side, a pirate who Louis learned was the head rigger named Edward Sheeran. After the first hour, Steve wound his way to their table. His palms rattled the side of an empty barrel he sat upon, providing percussion for the motley accompaniment. 

“Think we could make a quart – Um, a quart…Buggering quart somethin’” Niall garbled out, his nose scrunched as he tried to make sense of his own words. 

Louis cackled in response, his head tossed back as laughter pulled from his stomach, “D’you mean quartet, Neil?” 

Niall swatted him in the gut, “I’ve told ye a million times you cunting bastard, it’s not _Neil_. It’s Niall, Niall Horan.”

“Neil Whorehain.” 

“Twat,” Niall rolled his eyes. His nimble fingers fiddled with the strings as the melody morphed into something more upbeat. “Bring it up, Aoki,” he nodded towards the other man. 

Steve rolled his palms against the barrel in quick successions, matching the pace of Niall and Edward’s harmonies. He had an easy grin smacked on his face, his sleek black hair glistening from the moonlight and nearly burnt-out candles.

“Keep that up Horan and you’ll ‘ave the captain dancing!” Liam hollered from the opposite end of the table. 

It was the first time in the past hour that Louis had thought about Harry. With help from spiced rum, he was allowing his drunken state to numb what Niall had suggested earlier in the evening. However, Liam’s statement had his thought process derailed back towards the captain and away from the bottle tightly clutched in his hand. Louis craned his neck towards the head of the table, frowning when he saw the ornately decorated chair empty. 

“Looking for someone, Tomlinson?” 

Louis jolted in his chair, his head whipping around to see Harry standing behind him with a smug expression. Immediately, Louis contorted his face to get rid of the blatant shock and replace it with something closer to disinterest. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his eyebrow, the rum giving him more confidence than he would have in a sober state of being. 

“I was actually,” Louis dryly answered. 

Harry took a step closer, his hips gently swaying as if they were a current attempting to pull Louis out to sea. He ran his ring clad fingers through his matted curls, his tone suggestive as he asked, “And did you find him?” 

“Not a _him_ , Captain,” Louis rolled his eyes, reveling in the open confusion that flitted over the pirate’s face. “I was looking for your sister, to be specific.” 

“My sister,” The captain openly blanched as he rocked back on his heels, “You’ve got your sights on Gemma?” 

“I have a proposition for her,” Louis airily responded, his shoulders slightly lifting to feign nonchalance. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed impossibly small and his chin jutted upwards, “What proposition?” 

Louis pushed himself up from his seat. His legs slightly wobbled from a mix of liquor and having sat in one place for a handful of hours. He cocked his hip and bit back a smirk as Harry’s eyes followed the movement. 

“Wouldn’t concern you, Captain,” Louis winked as he stepped around Harry.

He made it two feet before a hand on his shoulder pulled him back. Louis stared along the horizon as he felt Harry crowd behind him, the pirate’s chest flush against his back. With a slight degree of difficulty, Louis kept his face blank when Harry lightly nosed against his temple. 

“Everything that happens on this ship is my concern, Tomlinson,” he evenly said against Louis’ skin. “Especially,” he emphasized by encasing Louis’ jaw in his left hand and turning Louis to face him, “If it involves you and my sister.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous, Captain,” Louis bated him as his eyes bore into Harry’s.

“Hardly,” he bit back, his thumb pressing against the corner of Louis’ mouth. “Gemma won’t be interested, you’re hardly her type.”

“You don’t even know what I’m proposing.”

“I can only assume.” 

“Aye,” Louis nodded. “Although, you’d be incorrect.”

Harry scowled at him, the corners of his mouth tipped downwards. After a moment of indecision, the captain brashly released his hold and stepped away from Louis. His jaw was taught as he folded his arms over his chest, his bicep muscles flexing underneath the thin material of his tunic.

“Fine,” Harry turned his nose up in a patriarchal fashion. “Go get ‘er. If you’re lucky, you’ll finish the accord with your balls still intact.” 

Louis scoffed and walked away from Harry, not bothering to look back to know that the captain was watching him. He hadn’t formulated a well thought-out plan by the time he stopped in front of Gemma. Her expression was bored as she purposefully flicked a hand-knife into the table’s surface. The metal solidly bit into the wood and she twiddled the blade a bit before pulling it out and repeating the action. 

Without glancing in his direction, Gemma dully asked, “Come over for another beating, savvy?”

“No, I didn’t,” Louis rolled his eyes as he took the seat across from her. 

Her eyes flicked towards him and they lethargically gave him a once over before she pulled the knife out of the table. She twirled the blade between her fingers, “Whatever you’re about to say, I’d think carefully.” 

“I have a proposition for you,” Louis bluntly stated, figuring it was the most effective way to have a conversation with the woman.

While her eyes were still locked on Louis’ she quickly pelted the table with the knife. Her nimble fingers danced along the ivory handle, “Aye?” 

“Aye,” Louis affirmed. “I want you to teach me how to fight.” 

A surprised laugh shot out of her rosy mouth, her eyes wide with amusement. “What makes you think I would willingly do that?” she shook her head in disbelief.

“I’ve seen the state of the artillery below deck,” Louis’ nose scrunched, “I’ll run maintenance on supplies in exchange for lessons.” 

Gemma tugged the knife out of the table and pointed the tip towards Louis, “Or, I could get Harry to force you to do that.” 

Louis folded his hands and rested his forearms against the table. He looked down at his clothes, the materials discolored from grime. The gold buttons of his vest caught the flicker of the moonlight and Louis tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as an idea came to mind. 

“I’ll tell you where my father is set to sail.”

He raised his gaze and saw Gemma staring back at him in disbelief, her hand frozen where it was gripped around the blade. 

“Why would I believe you were telling the truth?” she carefully asked as she sat straighter in her chair. 

“If I was lying, you’d find out because he wouldn’t be there,” Louis shrugged, his stomach rolling in knots from the severity of his actions. “I know he’d kill me if I misled you,” he stated, eyes drifting towards Harry who was caught in conversation with Liam and Niall. Louis looked back at Gemma, “And believe it or not, I’m not ready to die quite yet.” 

Gemma flicked her hair off her shoulder as a crease wrinkled her forehead. She peered at Louis, still hesitant, “And why aren’t you making this proposition to him?” 

“He’s already keeping me aboard like some well-bred pup,” Louis gritted out, a tinge of anger sobering him up. He slowly shook his head, “I’m not going to give him the additional satisfaction of asking for help.” 

“Harry,” Gemma started and paused to gather her thoughts. She tugged at her bottom lip and released it when she carried on, “He’s not a bad man and you’re hardly a prize to him, Tomlinson.”

Louis’ eyes were locked on a splinter of wood, “Right.” 

“He thinks you’re interesting.” 

At that, Louis snapped his eyes back up. He titled his head to the side, “ _Interesting_?” 

“Aye,” she agreed but didn’t elaborate. Gemma stood from her chair and tucked the dagger into her sheath. She extended a hand across the table, “We have an accord, savvy? Exchange lessons for information and artillery maintenance?” 

Louis glanced at her hand and then carefully took it in his own. Her fingers gripped his firmly, fulling flaunting her strength. He matched her and shook their joint hands twice. 

“We have an accord.” 

Their hands released and Gemma immediately turned away, traipsing down the length of the table towards a group of men betting on dice. Louis watched as they all hollered at her with pleased grins, scooting closer together to make room for an extra player. 

“Get ready to empty your pockets ye sodding sons of bilge rats!” She brashly greeted with her arms extended. “And Perry,” she threateningly pointed at one of Louis’ captors, “If you even try to cheat me out again, I’ll have your guts for gardens and toss the rest to Davy’s locker.”

Louis felt himself grin at the way the men easily accepted her as one of their own. It was obvious that there was a mutual respect that tethered them all together. After a moment of being rooted in spot, Louis grabbed a half empty bottle of red wine from the table wand walked towards the bow of the ship. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a generous sip of the liquid, humming at the content feeling that came with the wine.

It was quiet by the bow of the ship, the other crew members either still sat around the dining tables or they had stumbled their way below deck and to their hammocks. Salty air wind pushed through the air, running a slight shiver along his spine. Louis carefully wrapped his fingers around thick rope as he straddled the bowsprit. He leaned against the banister of the ship and let head loll backwards. Stars shimmered above him, the different constellations painting the black sky with a translucent glimmer. 

Over a span of time, Louis listened as voices thinned out from the deck. They were muffled by the wind and lapping waves, but still intelligible. He was vaguely aware that he would have to retire to the crew’s quarters at some point and yet, there was something peaceful about hovering over the ocean’s surface that kept him sat on the wooden beam. With his feet lightly swaying in the air, he drank another swig of wine. 

The light patter of footsteps resonated behind him as a voice sighed, “There you are.”

Louis glimpsed over his shoulder to see Harry slowly approach him. He turned back towards the sea and lifted his hands, “Here I am.”

“Thought you might have managed to already fall overboard,” Harry teased as he slung a leg over the banister and sat down. 

“Apologies, Captain, seems you’re still stuck with me,” Louis snorted and held out the bottle of wine towards the other man. 

A dimple dug into Harry’s cheek as he took the proffered bottle, “That it would seem.” 

“Why did you make me your cabin boy?” Louis rushed out as he watched the captain. 

The question clearly caught Harry off guard, the wine catching in his throat as he coughed in surprise. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and cocked his head as he stared back at Louis. 

“I told you,” Harry drawled out as if he was talking to a child, “I killed off my last one and needed a replacement.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “You could have had Steve do it.” 

“Aye, I could have,” Harry nodded, his brows still furrowed from confusion. “Not enjoying your position, Mr. Tomlinson?” 

Louis opened his mouth to immediately spit back that he didn’t like the position but, they both would have known it would be a lie. Harry had even commented on it earlier that afternoon. Louis loved learning the new information and reading about the different topics from Harry’s personal library. It was what the positon insinuated that Louis didn’t like. 

Instead of lying, he ignored the question and said, “It feels like you’re keeping an eye on me because you don’t trust me.” 

“Probably because I don’t.”

“I knew it!” Louis loudly accused as his hands slightly flailed by his side.

Harry rested his elbows on his knees, “Why are you surprised?” 

“Why don’t you trust me to be on my own like the rest of the crew?” Louis spat back. 

“You are the only person on this ship who has openly shown me disrespect,” Harry calmly stated as he stared back at Louis. “Why should I reward you for it?”

“We both know you’re keeping me close because of who my father is,” Louis narrowed his eyes. 

Harry’s expression grew dark and his voice had hallowed when he said, “If I treated you based off of who your father is, I would have killed you the moment you stepped a foot on my ship.”

It was Louis turn to be confused as he stared at the pirate. His mouth opened and shut a few times before he quietly asked, “Why do you hate him?” 

“Why do you?” 

“I don’t hate him,” Louis blanched, his cheeks tinged red from the quickness of his statement. 

“How do you expect to earn my trust when you don’t give me any of yours, Tomlinson?” Harry swung his leg over the banister and stood so he towered over Louis’ figure. He shook his head in slight disappointment and when he spoke again, his tone was bleak and removed from any emotion, “Get to your quarters, you have a long day tomorrow.” 

Louis gingerly pulled himself up off the bow spirit and climbed back on the deck. He trailed after Harry’s already retreating figure and called after him, “Why is it a long day? What am I doing tomorrow?” 

Harry paused his footing to look over his shoulder, “Gemma told me about your arrangement. You start your training at sunrise.” 

“Oh,” Louis dumbly responded as he stopped by the entrance of Harry’s quarters. 

“Get some rest, savvy,” Harry curtly nodded and then pulled his door open. 

Louis watched as the door quickly shut behind the captain. For a moment, he stood in place and just stared at the two wooden doors. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was waiting for but after a few minutes of silence, Louis walked towards the crew’s quarters. 

“Look who made it,” Steve sleepily grumbled from his stretched hammock. He jutted out his thumb towards an empty hammock to his left, “That one’s for you.”

“Thank you,” Louis mumbled as he sprawled out on the netting, attempting to angle his limbs into a comfortable position. 

A collection of snores filled the space around him and Louis somehow found them comforting. They reminded him of the snores he heard back home when his sisters and brother fell asleep around him. His eyes lulled shut as he focused on his breathing slowing to a gentler pace, his mind racking through memories of lying in the grass with his family. The ship gently rocked along the surface of the ocean, the motion pulling Louis into a peaceful sleep fueled by remnants of his family and home. 

****

Louis woke up to a sharp jab against his side. His knees immediately curled towards his chest, rocking him off balance on the hammock. The netting flipped over and sent Louis down towards the ground in an uncoordinated pile of limbs. His cheek slapped against the wooden planks and a throaty groan reverberated out of him. 

“For fucks sake, Tomlinson, you’re about as useful as a fish on land.” 

“Good morning to you too, Gemma,” Louis gritted out as he peeked an eye open. 

Gemma stood above him with her hands cocked expectantly on her hips. She pressed the toe of her boot against his shoulder and rolled him onto his back. 

“Get up,” she ordered, emphasizing her words with a slight pressure of her foot against his shoulder. “Meet me on the deck in two minutes or I won’t train you today and you’ll go straight to the artillery.” 

“Aye,” Louis nodded and swatter her foot off of his chest. 

Without comment, Gemma flitted up towards the deck. Her auburn hair trailed in the air behind her, the tresses illuminating underneath the sun as she climbed the steps. 

“Training?” 

Louis sat up and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, attempting to wake himself up. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sleepily blinked at Steve who was watching him with a slightly amused expression. 

“She’s teaching me how to fight,” Louis explained as he stood to his feet. 

Steve chortled, “Right, good luck with that one.” 

Not wanting to be late, Louis quickly trotted up the stairs. The sun had just begun to climb above the horizon, drenching the ocean in rosy hues. Louis gaped at the sight, internally wishing he could immortalize the view. 

“Would you rather sit around and paint the sunrise like a bunch of twats or would you like to learn how to fight like a woman?” 

Louis tore his gaze from the reflection of the sun against the waves, wincing as he saw Gemma observing him with open judgement. He shrugged his shoulder in lame apology and stepped closer towards her.

“Right,” Gemma handed Louis a three-foot long piece of wood and then picked up her own. “Your stance is already abysmal and –”

“Hold on,” Louis cut her off as he looked at the pole in his hand. “Is this the handle of a broom?”

Gemma watched at him with an unimpressed glare, “You didn’t honestly think I’d trust you with a blade, did you?” 

“It’s not like I’m inept!” Louis gestured towards himself, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. “I think I can handle a sword just –”

 _Thwack._

Louis’ knees buckled from where Gemma had quickly walloped him with the broom handle. He unsteadily took a few steps forward, his own broomstick falling from his grip and onto the deck. Gemma had a smug expression plastered on her face as Louis begrudgingly picked up the piece of wood. 

“If we were using swords, you would be an amputee.” She broadened her stance and held the broomstick out as if it was a genuine sword. 

“What about practicing with a blunt sword?” 

Gemma swiftly cut the space between them with a flourish of her hand, Louis instinctively dodging the blow by leaping backwards. She dipped low and swung her leg out, effectively tripping Louis around his ankles and sending him onto his back with a muffled groan. 

“What kind of pirate carries a blunt sword?” she asked as she towered over him. After a moment, she held out her hand and tacked on, “As much as I fancy cutting you like a Christmas ham, Harry would prefer to ‘ave his cabin boy in one piece.” 

Gingerly, Louis took her hand and let Gemma haul him to his feet. “Thank you,” he mumbled. 

“This is not a game, Tomlinson.” Gemma tightened her grip and pulled Louis closer so their chests almost touched. Her voice was lowered as she said, “This is your new reality.”

“Right,” Louis nodded, a blush painting his sun-kissed cheeks. 

“Now,” Gemma released her grip and took a few paces back, “Get into a stance that won’t make me want to give up on your pathetic existence.” 

There was a playful tilt at the corner of her mouth that pulled a laugh from Louis’ stomach. He pushed his hair from his forehead and mimicked her stance, his body at an angle and knees slightly bent. Gemma raised her right hand and Louis reciprocated the action. 

“Think of sword fighting as a dance,” Gemma instructed as the tip of her broom tapped Louis’. “I’m your partner and your sword is an extension of your arm. The both of us are calculating the other’s steps and ideally, you’d be quicker at it than your partner is.” 

Louis nodded as his brows furrowed in concentration. A firm sense of determination flooded through him as Gemma spoke. He wanted to gain her respect and he knew that the only way to do that, was to prove he wasn’t entirely useless. He needed to show her and by extension, the rest of the crew, that he was more than just a commodore’s son. 

“So, if I step forward…” She drawled out as she moved towards him. Reflexively, Louis stepped backwards. Gemma grinned, “Good.” 

Hesitantly, a smile stretched across Louis’ lips as his eyes darted from Gemma’s hand to her eyes. “This might be a stupid question, but –”

“I’m sure it will be,” Gemma smirked. 

Louis rolled his eyes, “But, where do you look when you’re fighting someone?” 

“If they’re unexperienced, I watch their eyes. Savvys tend to show where they’re going to swing just with a look.”

Louis was so concentrated on watching her speak that he missed her arm slash forward. The wood smacked him in the side and Louis instantly gripped his ribs as an ache shot through him. His teeth were gritted together as a gush of air puffed from his chest. 

“And what if they are experienced?” Louis wheezed as he looked up at the pirate with a pained expression. 

“I watch out for the pointy end.” 

Louis groaned, “Buggering pirate.” 

Gemma cackled and patted him on the back, “Let’s try that again, landlubber.” 

With an already impending bruise, Louis straightened his back and wearily held up the broomstick. 

“Alright,” he huffed out as he narrowed his eyes. “Again.”

**** 

Upon seeing Louis stretched out in the crew’s quarters, Niall spat out a sharp laugh. Louis glowered at the other man, his swollen lip throbbing as he managed a pout. 

“Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Niall doubled over, his palms on the tops of his thighs as he cackled at Louis’ state, “You look absolute shit! What did Captain do to you?” 

“It wasn’t him, it was Gemma,” Louis groaned and folded his arms over his face. That only made Niall laugh louder, his steps brash as he stopped by Louis’ hammock. Louis peeked from underneath his bicep to see Niall looking at him expectantly. “What?” Louis wearily asked.

“Captain requested you in his cabin,” Niall smirked. 

Louis swatted at him, immediately regretting it as pain shot through his arm from where Gemma had nailed him particularly hard. “Stop smirking. It makes you uglier than you already are.” 

Niall incredulously gestured towards himself, “I’ll have you know me mam told me I was a beautiful boy.” 

“Never trust a mother’s opinion on her own children,” Louis unceremoniously said as he pushed himself into a sitting positon, his legs dangling over the side of the hammock. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“Wouldn’t tell you even if I knew,” Niall exaggeratingly sniffed as he stared at his nailbeds. 

Louis rolled his eyes and got out of the hammock. He slung his arm around Niall’s shoulders and smacked his hand against the man’s chest, “You’re beautiful.”

“Am I interrupting something, lads?” 

Liam paused on the steps, his eyebrow cocked a he looked between the two men. 

Louis easily shook his head and roughly slapped Niall on the back, “He wishes.” 

“You cunting bastard,” Niall gruffed as he pushed Louis off of him. 

“Best be off,” Louis rushed out as he darted away from Niall’s threatening glare. He grinned at Liam’s perpetually confused expression and made his way towards the captain’s quarters. 

He wound his way through the crew members that bustled on the deck, most of them not paying him any mind. The few that did, tossed him an inquisitive look before they returned to their duties. When Louis got to Harry’s door, he lightly knocked and shifted his weight from foot to foot as he listened for a response. 

“Aye,” reverberated from the other side of the door. 

Louis pushed the door open and eased it shut behind him. “Niall said you wanted to see me?” He said with a tilt in his voice that made the statement sound more like a question than fact. 

Harry’s back was towards him as he stared out of the barrel windows. The falling sunlight seeped into the room, encompassing the captain’s figure in a hazy halo. He turned around and offered Louis a slight grimace, the forced action negating any progress Louis thought he had made the afternoon prior. 

“I’ll be dining alone in my quarters tonight. The cook has been made aware of this and will have set aside a plate,” He told Louis with an elongated drawl. 

Louis’ hands clasped behind his back as his eyebrows pulled together, “And you would like me to…?”

Harry tugged off his maroon headscarf and tossed it onto the dresser, his actions as lethargic as the tone of his voice. 

“Bring it to me.”

Louis nodded, “Okay.” 

“I wasn’t finished,” The captain snipped as he pulled his tunic over his head. 

“Oh,” Louis dumbly said as his eyes focused on the pair of laurel leaves tattooed against Harry’s hip bones. He shook his head and cleared his throat, directing his attention back to Harry’s face, “What else, Captain?” 

“I’m going to show you how I like my baths so that you can draw it for me next time.” 

“Are there different ways to do that?” Louis asked before he could think better of it. 

“Obviously or I wouldn’t be needing to tell you,” Harry rolled his eyes as he walked towards a partition along the right corner of the room. 

Louis glowered at his back as he followed the other man, irritation slowly creeping along his spine. 

“Of course,” he bit back through gritted teeth. 

Behind the bamboo partition was a lionfoot onyx tub. The claws were gold and glimmering against the blood red carpet stretched underneath. There was a small table next to the lip of the bath, an assortment of bottles lined next to one another. 

“I don’t think that I need to tell you that fresh water is limited on a ship, Tomlinson,” Harry started, catching Louis’ attention from a small mahogany box topped with rose petals. “Which is why I need you to do this proper.”

Louis bit back an eye roll, “I have noticed cleanliness is lacking on this ship, yes.” 

“Not everyone can have the luxury of bathing regularly,” Harry mocked as his fingers trailed along the porcelain. 

“Apparently _you_ can,” Louis snapped. 

Harry squared his shoulders and stepped into Louis’ space, “Are you trying to get yourself sent back to the brig?” 

Louis’ jaw clenched and his hands fisted by his side, eyes darted away from Harry’s glare. 

“No.”

“In that case,” Harry gripped Louis’ jaw and turned his head so that he couldn’t look anywhere else, “Pay attention.” 

“Aye,” Louis muttered.

Harry’s thumb pressed against the cut in Louis’ bottom lip, “Enjoying your lessons with my sister?” 

“Yes,” Louis suspiciously answered, his eyes narrowing as the wheels in his head turned. He winced when Harry applied pressure against his lip. “Are you angry that I didn’t ask you, Captain?”

“Aye,” Harry lowly said and then released Louis’ jaw with a bit of force. Louis cupped his chin as he gawked at the captain. “Why didn’t you?” Harry snapped, his green irises wide as they implored Louis. 

“Captain?” 

“Why didn’t you ask me to teach you?” Harry raked his fingers though his hair, his nostrils slightly flaring. “Why Gemma?”

Louis instinctively took a step backwards as his eyes widened, “I –”

“I’ll tell you why,” Harry cut him off, “You _knew_ it would make me angry! I offered you my help, remember? We were sat right there,” Louis flinched as he accusingly pointed at the dining table, “And I told you that I would help you.” 

Embarrassment flushed the skin along Louis’ neck, “I know.” 

“Then why do you insist on being difficult?” Harry practically begged, his expression torn open with hopelessness as he waited for Louis to say something. 

“I,” Louis started and paused when his voice caught. He shrugged hopelessly as he looked around the room, praying for it to swallow him whole, “I don’t know.” 

Harry sighed as he sunk to sit on the lip of the bath, he shook his head minutely, “And you truly wonder why I can’t trust you?”

“I won’t ask her to help anymore,” Louis quickly rushed out, his fingers toying with the hem of his tunic. “I…I’m sorry I offended you.” 

Harry rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, his eyes set on his clasped fingers. “Get out of my cabins, Tomlinson.” 

“But…What about your dinner?” Louis asked and mentally slapped himself once the words were out. 

“Not your concern,” Harry coolly said. He raised himself to his feet and looked down on Louis, his expression blank of any emotions. “From here on out, you’ve been demoted.” 

“What!” Louis gawped, his jaw loose as he stared at the captain. “I won’t act out, I swear it. I –”

“You’ll be a swabbie on the decks and if you step out of line one more time, I’ll shuck you off this ship myself,” Harry stated, his voice even and eerily passive as if he was discussing the tides. 

“Harry,” Louis begged, his voice quieter than intended. 

“Captain,” Harry immediately corrected. 

Louis’ hands were limp at his side as he helplessly watched the man withdrawal himself. His throat felt as if it was closing in on itself when Harry turned away in obvious dismissal. Not wanting to ruin things further, Louis curtly nodded to himself and rushed out of the quarters. He closed the doors behind him and rested his back against the wood as he looked out at the deck. 

There was an unexplainable numbness that was harpooning itself into Louis’ chest. His breathing felt labored and his throat hadn’t cleared since Harry demoted him. It was more than disappointment that clawed at his insides, although disappointment was a heavy part of the mix. Louis clenched his eyes shut and attempted to push the feeling out of his body. 

“Are you alright?” 

Louis opened his eyes and saw Steve standing in front of him with worry painting his expression. 

“Um,” Louis started, his voice coming out as garbled mess. 

“C’mon,” Steve murmured, tilting his head to the side to signal Louis to follow him. 

Louis curtly nodded, not trusting his voice. He followed behind Steve as he crossed the deck, keeping his eyes low so other crew members couldn’t see the distress that was apparently evident as the ocean being blue. They wound their way to the back of the ship, stopping by the shrouds that were attached to the mizzen. 

“Can you climb?” 

Louis tore his eyes from the billowing mast and looked at Steve who was already gripping a handful of rope. He nodded a bit timidly, watching as the other man began to pull his way up the netting and towards the post of the mizzen. Carefully, Louis gripped the rope with both hands and slotted the sole of his boot against a lower section as if he was climbing a ladder. 

The salty air whipped around them as they climbed towards the mast. Louis’ hands were trembling with each outstretch of his hands and feet. He chanced a glance towards the deck and gaped at how small everything already began to look underneath him. Steve continued ahead of him, on pausing to look over his shoulder to check on Louis. 

When the rope tangled around the mizzen, Steve shimmied off of the net and slung a leg over a horizontal beam. He pushed himself back a few feet and patted the wood. Louis let out a humorless laugh as he carefully reached out. His heart rabbited inside of his chest as he stretched his arms to hug around the beam. His left leg swung over the wood and gingerly, he sat upwards. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis said with a surprised laugh as his fingers dug into the beam. 

The horizon extended endlessly around them, the only thing in sight being the gentle rock of the waves and the reflection of sunlight. It made Louis feel smaller than he ever had before, his own existence seeming miniscule amongst something so vast. Louis looked at the man across him only to see Steve grinning back at him, more amused by Louis than the fact they were nearly a hundred feet in the air in the middle of the Caribbean. 

“Are we aloud to be up here?” Louis wondered as he twisted his neck to look around the other masts. 

Steve nodded and simply said, “It’s our home, too.” 

The corner of Louis’ mouth dipped down, “I suppose.” 

Steve bobbed his feet in the air and after a moment of silence stretched between them, he directly asked, “What happened?” 

Louis picked at the wood with his nail, “I got demoted.” 

“How’d you manage that?” Steve asked, his tone lacking any trace of judgement. 

“I, um, _might_ have offended the captain,” Louis murmured. 

“You’ve been doing that since you met ‘im, pal,” Steve laughed, his eyes twinkling back at Louis. 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Right, well, more than usual.” 

“Why?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why’d you do it?” 

Louis narrowed his eyes, “You don’t even know what I did.” 

“Doesn’t matter much, does it?” Steve shrugged easily. He settled a hand behind him on the beam and rested backwards, “What matters is why you did it.” 

“He’s arrogant.” 

“So are you.” 

Louis gaped, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“You think the captain keeps you around because of your status,” Steve began, completely undeterred by Louis’ glare. “That’s arrogance.”

“He is,” Louis huffed, his tone insistent. “My status is the only reason I’m on this bloody ship.” 

Steve shook his head, “That might be how you got here, but that’s not why you’re still here.” 

“How do you figure that?” Louis cocked his eyebrow. 

“If you were kept aboard because you were summat of a bargaining chip, don’t you think you’d be locked in the brig?” Steve pointedly asked. 

“Well,” Louis started and then stopped, a crease forming between his brows. “Maybe he didn’t want me to know that I was being used.” 

Steve snorted, “Right, and what good would that do for him?” 

Louis’ bottom lip jutted out into a pout, “I don’t know.” 

“Want to know what I think, Louis?” 

“Depends on what it is you’re thinking,” Louis weakly joked. 

“I think,” Steve drawled out, waiting to continue until Louis met his eyes, “You’re angry at the situation and you’re blaming him for it.” 

“Who else am I blame?” Louis slightly raised his voice. “I had a life back in Kensington and _he_ took it away from me!” 

“No, he didn’t,” Steve slowly shook his head, his voice remaining even. “Styles wasn’t the one who captured you, that was Jenkins and Perry. If you’re angry, be angry with them. Not the man who chose _not_ to kill you.” 

Louis hung his head in his hands and let out a frustrated groan. He deeply inhaled through his nose and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“So,” Louis grimly laughed, shrugging a shoulder, “What do I do now?”

Steve leaned forward and lightly patted him on the knee, “I can’t answer that for you.”

“You’ve managed to answer everything else though,” Louis grumbled like a petulant child. 

The other man sincerely grinned, “Which is why you can handle this one on your own, pal.” 

Louis sighed, his eyes directing back on the horizon as it morphed from blue to pink. 

“We should go back down,” Steve quietly said as he leaned over and watched different crew members pace across the deck. “S’gonna be dark soon.”

“Right,” Louis nodded. He looked over his shoulder towards the shroud and grimaced. “About that…” he drawled out. 

“I’ll go first,” Steve rolled his eyes, an amused smirk dancing over his lips. 

Louis beamed, “Just want to make sure you cushion my fall.”

Steve shook his head as he chortled, “Right. Not because you’re scared or anything.” 

“Me,” Louis faux admonished with his hand pressed over his heart. “I am not scared of anything.” 

“Just apologizing to the captain.” 

“Yes, well,” Louis’ cheeks heated. “Maybe that.” 

****

For the rest of the evening, Harry did not emerge from his quarters. Louis knew that because he spent the rest of evening pacing across the deck with his eyes trained on the double doors. He nearly knocked on the captain’s quarters at two different times, his knuckles poised just above the wood. Both times, he lowered his hand and stepped away to resume his pacing. 

“He’s not coming out anytime soon, swabbie.” 

Zayn pushed himself off of the banister, emerging from the shadows of the main mast. His arms were crossed over his chest as he slowly approached Louis. 

He pointed a finger towards the door, “I know that man better than anyone, possibly even his sister.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he tacked on, “But, don’t tell her I said that.” 

Louis combed his fingers through his hair and huffed out on a weak laugh, “I won’t mention it.” 

“The captain is a man of action.” 

“What are you going on about,” Louis impatiently huffed, his eyes darting towards the doors when he thought he noticed movement. Disappointment flooded through him when he saw that it was just a member of the crew passing by. 

Zayn clasped him on the shoulder and lightly shook him, “A man of action is moved by things he can see, Tomlinson.”

Louis glimpsed at Zayn, “So…I need to show him that he can trust me? As in, physically show him?”

“Your words have gotten you into this and it will take more than words to get you out.” 

When Zayn turned to walk away, Louis gripped his shoulder to stop him in place. “Why do you want to help me?” Louis asked, his head slightly tilted towards the side. 

Zayn smirked, “He’s been a miserable shit and I’d like to have my heartless captain back.” 

Louis shook his head, “Heartless, right.” 

****

The next morning, Louis trudged up towards the deck. His movements were sluggish and his eyes were rimmed red from lack of sleep. He spent the night tossing in his hammock, emerald eyes plaguing his thoughts anytime he closed his eyes. Louis knew that he wouldn’t fully rest until he resolved what had happened between him and Harry. 

Gemma was already on deck, perched on top of an ale barrel with a broomstick in hand. When she heard Louis approach, she hopped off of the barrel and tossed the wooden beam towards Louis. She brought her hands together and slowly clapped in faux applause.

“Demoted from the simplest of jobs a pirate could possibly have,” Gemma mocked as she began to circle him. “You were a _cabin boy_ , Tomlinson,” She sneered and then quickly jabbed him in the side with the end of the broomstick. 

Louis doubled over in pain as he gritted, “I’m not in the mood for this, Gemma.”

“Not in the mood?” She incredulously asked, her feet swiftly moving as she delivered another harsh whip of the stick. “No wonder my brother didn’t want you around him, you pretentious twat.” 

“Stop it,” Louis warned as anger pulsated through him. 

“Admit it,” Her smirk was full of mirth as she continued to taunt him, “You don’t deserve to even have Harry –”

“Shut up!” Louis shouted as he spun around and thrusted a sharp jab against Gemma’s bicep. 

The air around them became sterile. Louis’ labored breathing paired with Gemma’s shocked expression Louis’ eyes were wild as he stared back at her. After a moment more, Gemma straightened her back and shook her head as a laugh tumbled out of her mouth.

“Knew you had it in you, savvy.” 

Louis breathlessly puffed out a laugh, “You did that on purpose.” 

“I did,” She nodded, blatantly pleased with herself. “Had a feeling that was your weak spot.” 

“What?” Louis asked as he broadened his stance and lifted the broomstick to match Gemma’s pose. 

“Your weak spot,” She reiterated as if it made more sense the second time wound. 

Louis put his hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side, “And what is that? You being insufferable?”

“No,” she scoffed. “It’s Harry.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Faster.” 

“You know that was a fair hit,” Louis dramatically sighed as he wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead. “Give me some credit here.” 

Gemma put her free hand on her hip, “Would you like me to bake you a cake as well, princess?” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “You are the least encouraging instructor that I have ever encountered.” 

“No, I’m probably the only honest one who won’t blow smoke up your arse.” 

“Have you always been this pleasant?” Louis raised his arm as Gemma began to circle him. “Or am I just lucky?” 

Gemma twirled on her leading foot and aimed a strike against Louis’ gut. Louis quickly stepped towards his left and blocked the attack with his broomstick. Immediately, Gemma flourished her hand to deliver a harsh blow towards Louis’ head. His eyes widened and at the last moment, he ducked down. He could hear the air cut above him and a frustrated groan pull from Gemma’s throat as she missed him. Louis swung out his leg and hooked his foot around her ankle in attempts to trip her. 

When his ankle made contact, Gemma immediately dove to the side and summersaulted against the deck with an ease that came from years of practice. Louis stood to his feet and lunged after her, adrenaline pumping through his blood. Their broom handles met in the air with a brash sound that reverberated throughout the deck, neither of them giving in at the splintered pieces of wood pressed against one another. 

“Yield,” Gemma gritted out through her teeth, her eyes stormy as she put all of her strength into the broomstick. 

Louis shook his head, a piece of his hair drooping over his forehead, “No.” 

Gemma pulled back and darted to the side, causing Louis to stumble forward and nearly fall over. He managed to get his footing and whipped around in time to block Gemma’s advance. Their make-shift swords continued to brash against one another, every block making a soreness stretch through the muscles along Louis’ arms. 

“Bastard,” Gemma spat out when Louis got in a clean kick against her ribs. 

His minute victory didn’t last long. 

With a newfound surge of rage, Gemma lunged at Louis and pinned him to the ground. Louis fell onto his back with his eyes pinched shut. A pained grimace twisted his mouth when his head smacked against the wood. Gemma managed to pin his arms with her knees and Louis opened his eyes when he felt metal press against his neck. 

“I said,” Gemma emphasized by pressing the handle of her dagger against Louis’ jugular, “Yield.” 

Louis opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a slow round of applause from behind them Gemma raised her head, a smirk blooming over her face as she pulled her dagger away from Louis’ throat. Louis craned his neck, groaning when he saw Zayn, Liam, and Niall watching them. 

“That’ll be a schilling, Horan,” Zayn smugly said as he held out his hand expectantly. 

Niall mumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he pulled out a coin from a small pouch. He dropped it in Zayn’s hand and strode over towards Louis who was still flat on the ground. 

“I was rootin’ for ye,” Niall rolled his eyes as he extended a hand to help Louis up. He hauled Louis to his feet and then unceremoniously smacked him upside the head. 

“What the bloody hell was that for!” Louis laughed as he pushed Niall away from him. 

“Made me lose a bet,” Niall huffed as he moved to smack Louis again. 

Louis batted him off, “I didn’t tell you to bet on me, _Neil_.”

“That’s what I get for puttin’ faith in a sodding landlubber,” Niall pouted. He folded his arms over his chest, “You owe me a drink when we go to port.” 

“We’re going to port?” Louis chirped back, his eyes wide as he looked between Niall and Zayn. 

Zayn nodded, “Captain thinks it would be good for the crew to have a night in Tortuga.” 

“We’re going to Tortuga?” Louis pressed, excitement obvious in his tone. 

Since Louis was a young boy, he had heard tales of the infamous island. Louis read that Tortuga was formerly known as Ile de la Tortue, but overtime, much like other things, the English colonizers managed to modify the name. The small island was known to be a place where different crews launched attacks on Spanish colonies since it originally populated by Spanish exiles. Louis wasn’t sure if that remained true since the French and English had colonized and divided the island. Regardless, and more importantly, Tortuga was also known for being a central hub for pirates. 

Gemma swung her arm around Louis’ neck, “Y’know for a nobleman, you’re a bit slow, savvy.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, his fingers anxiously toying with the hem of his shirt, “It’s just that I’ve never been.” 

Liam scoffed at that, “It’s a pirate’s port, of course you’ve never been.” 

“Think of it as your right of passage,” Zayn said as he leisurely rolled his hand through the air. 

Louis leaned into Gemma’s side, internally beaming that she didn’t immediately push him away. “Right of passage?” he asked. 

“There’s not a pirate in the Caribbean who hasn’t been to Tortuga,” Gemma sincerely nodded. 

“So after tonight,” Louis smirked as he looked between the four other crew members, “I’ll officially be a pirate?” 

In perfect unison, the four pirates said, “No.” 

Louis scowled and pushed himself away from Gemma, “And why not?” 

“Someone’s a bit eager,” Liam teased as he waggled his eyebrows. 

“Aye,” Niall agreed with a matching smug expression. “Careful, we might start to think you like it here.” 

“It would ruin that pearly pretentious image you’ve worked hard to build up,” Gemma mocked with an exaggerated pout. 

Louis flicked his hair from his forehead and grumbled, “You are all horrible people.” 

Niall cackled, his hands coming to rest against his stomach, “You too, twat.” 

“If going to Tortuga doesn’t make you a pirate,” Louis drawled out, feigning nonchalance in his tone, “What does?” 

“Thought it was obvious,” Liam said with his brows furrowed, making him look younger. 

“You have to commit piracy,” Zayn chimed in, his expression tinted with the same confusion. “We originate from the word, Tomlinson.” 

Louis folded his arms, “So…I’d have to steal something?” 

“Aye,” Niall agreed, a devious glint sparkling his eyes as he continued, “Not just anything, though.”

_“To be considered a pirate, you have to ransack a ship, Tomlinson.”_

Louis whipped his head towards the quarterdeck to see Harry leaning against the bannister, his forearms rested against the wood. His head was titled to the side and his lax position suggested that he had been there a while. A flush heated Louis’ cheeks at the knowledge that the captain had been listening. 

“Oh,” Louis slowly nodded, unsure what else to say. 

“I didn’t realize I was running a social club,” Harry pushed himself off of the banister, his tone dismissive. He palmed the head of his sword and slightly narrowed his eyes, “Back to your posts or you’ll spend the night below deck contemplating the truly minimal impact you have in the godforsaken world.” 

“Aye,” Zayn respectfully bowed his head. He turned towards Louis, “Swab the deck, Tomlinson.” 

Out of his peripheral, Louis glimpsed at Harry. The captain was watching the exchange with a raised brow and slight curiosity. Naturally, his gut reaction was to scoff at the order, but then he remembered what Zayn had told him the night prior. For once, Louis made the active decision to follow orders without any rebuttal. 

Louis nodded, “Aye.” 

As he turned away he heard Harry loudly comment, “Well, would you look at that.”

Barely faltering his steps, Louis bit back a smart remark and stalked towards the side of the ship where a collection of buckets were stacked. Louis grabbed one of the buckets and a bit of coiled rope. He looped the rope through the handle of the bucket and securely knotted it, giving the material a firm tug to make sure that it didn’t come undone. 

Keeping the rope in hand, Louis gingerly lowered the bucket over the side of the ship. Once the bucket descended against the ocean, he pulled the rope at an angle to collect water. With his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, Louis hauled the rope upwards, gradually lifting the bucket. 

When the bucket was over the banister, Louis grabbed a mop and dunked the head of it into the salt water. Unceremoniously, he plopped the mop against the boards of wood and began to swab the deck. It was later in the day which meant that most of the crew members were transitioning between posts, the excitement of Tortuga rolling through conversations. Louis kept to his self as he worked, keeping his head down and focus on doing a fair enough job. 

After an hour of pushing around salt water, his hands had begun to blister from the wood. Louis winced when he saw his hands red and raw from the manual labor. He chucked the mop to the side and made his way towards the quarterdeck where Niall was at the wheel of the ship. 

“Tell me something,” Louis began as he walked towards the blonde, “Why are there swabbies?” 

“To clean the deck?” Niall’s forehead creased, “Fuck if I know.” 

“Because when you think about it, rubbing wood with salt water is hardly cleaning it,” Louis mused as he leaned against the banister. 

“Ask the captain,” Niall suggested with an easy tone, fully unaware of Louis’ internal turmoil when it came to Harry. 

Louis blanched, “I can’t ask him!” 

“Why not? He knows everything about this ship.”

“Because he’s displeased with me,” Louis rolled his eyes as if it was enough of an explanation. 

Niall sorted, “Still?” 

“It was only yesterday, Niall.” 

“Not like him to hold a grudge,” the pirate shrugged. He looked at Louis pointedly, “That’s coming from someone who’s sailed with ‘im for four years, mate.”

“So you’re suggesting that I make it up to Captain by asking him about swabbing the deck?” Louis incredulously asked. 

“That’s not what I said,” Niall cackled, his eyes reducing to small slits. “I just said you should ask him! It’s good conversation.”

Louis bellowed out a sharp laugh, his head shaking from side to side, “No, it’s not!” 

Niall shrugged, “I’m enjoying it.” 

“You are also an idiot,” Louis smirked without any true malice. 

“So,” Niall drawled out, attempting for nonchalance and failing miserably, “Do you fancy ‘im?” 

Louis choked on his own spit, his eyes wide as his head whipped around the quarterdeck. There wasn’t anybody else there, most of the men busied on the main deck or getting food from the kitchen. 

“No!” Louis grated through his teeth. “What kind of a question is that?” 

Niall rested his hip against the center of the wheel, “Why else would ye care what he thinks?”

“Because he is the captain,” Louis quickly answered. 

“Aye, that he is,” Niall slowly nodded as if he was addressing a toddler. “Doesn’t mean you should care what he thinks of you on a personal level, landlubber.” 

“But –” 

Niall cut him off, “He might fancy you, too.” 

Louis snorted, “The captain does _not_ fancy me.” 

“He did call you pretty in front of the whole ship,” Niall pointed out. 

“He was trying to get a rouse out of me.” 

“Probably,” Niall lifted his shoulders. “I also think he meant it.” 

“Does he usually...Um,” Louis’ face turned crimson red as he stammered his question. “You know, with, men…”

“Are you asking if Harry usually fucks men?” Niall bluntly asked, laughter thick in his tone. 

“Forget it,” Louis grumbled, moving to go back towards the main deck. 

“Oi!” Niall admonished, pulling Louis back by the sleeve of his tunic. “Look at you, yer blushing!” 

Louis roughly shrugged the other man off, “I am not.” 

“It’s alright, y’know,” Niall lowered his voice in sincerity. “If you haven’t been with a man before.” 

“Christ, _shut up_ ,” Louis groaned as he covered his face with his hands. “You’re an embarrassment.” 

“It’s not much different than with a lass,” Niall continued on. 

Louis narrowed his eyes, “You’ve laid with a man?” 

Niall scrunched his nose, “First off, you uppity prat, never say the term ‘laid with.’” 

“Fine,” Louis huffed. “Fucked a man, better?” 

“Aye,” Niall cackled. “No I haven’t. Bit surprising, now I think about it.” 

“How is that surprising?” 

Niall looked at him as if he was an idiot, “I live with over a hundred men in the middle of the ocean.” 

“So the crew…” Louis dragged out as he crudely thrusted his hips. 

“Some,” Niall shrugged, his attention back on the horizon as they approached Tortuga. 

“And,” Louis anxiously dragged out, his eyes flitted from the Niall to the speck of an island, “And, um, Harry?” 

A small smile tugged at Niall’s mouth, “Not with any of them.” 

Louis nodded, mentally processing everything Niall had told him. There was a part of him that fed into Niall’s idea, that he was hell-bent over the captain because he fancied the man. But then there was the other part of him that was terrified by that possibility. In Louis’ eighteen years, he had never fancied anyone, let alone a man who committed piracy for a living. It was far too big of a prospect for Louis to grapple with after one conversation. 

****

The crew anxiously gathered on the deck, everyone pressed side by side as they waited to file off of the boat. Louis was sandwiched between Niall and Steve, his weight rocked forward on the soles of his shoes as he tried to see over the other crewman. Harry broke through the crowd of men and climbed on the banister so he could look down over the crowd. 

Similar to the night Louis met him, Harry was dressed lavishly. A silk shirt clung against his chest, the pearly material emanating an ethereal glow from the moonlight. Pulled on top of the silk was a red jacket that demanded attention from any pair of eyes in his vicinity. Snugly fit on top of his head was an onyx wide brimmed hat that had white, red, and black feathers pinned to the side. 

His green irises were piercing as they stared out into the crew. Black grease was thickly coated against his eyelids and smudged underneath each eye, only extenuating the emerald color. His lush lips were obscenely red, as if they were painted by rose petals. Louis absently wondered if it was possible for them to flush darker if they were bitten. 

“I want all of you sodding bilge rats to listen clear,” Harry bellowed out, his voice ringing over the silent crowd. “We leave tomorrow at sunrise. If you are not on this ship, consider yourself relieved of service.”

Murmured “Ayes” sounded through the crew as they listened to their captain. 

Harry nodded approvingly in response. He drawled out his sword and threateningly held it above the crew as he narrowed his eyes, “Finally, if any of you bring a lad or lass on my ship, I will strangle you with your own guts and leave you for the sparrows. That clear?”

The crew nodded and Louis watched as a few instinctively grabbed their own stomachs. When Harry was satisfied with the response, he hopped off of the banister and strutted down a board that led from the deck to the port. Slowly, the crew followed suit, keeping a respectful distance between the captain’s paces and their own. 

Tortuga was roaring with life and gunpowder by the time Louis stepped onto shore. His eyes were wild with amazement as he watched pirates and wenches alike bustling through the streets with drunken grins and brash voices. Music sounded through every bar they passed and so did the sound of banter between drunken mates. 

“This is incredible,” Louis said as his mouth slowly widened into a smile. 

Niall draped his arm around Louis’ shoulders and directed them towards a particularly crowded tavern. “Welcome to Tortuga, landlubbers,” he grandly announced with his arms stretched open wide. 

Louis and Steve glanced at each other, matching grins stretched across both of their faces. 

“I’ll get ye ales,” Niall pointed between the two of them, “But after next raid, you lot foot the tab.” 

“Aye,” Steve nodded. 

Louis pointed towards a rectangular table near the back of the tavern, “We’ll grab a table.” 

Niall nodded and made his way towards the bar as Steve and Louis pressed their way through the crowd. Louis instinctively stuck close towards Steve’s back as they walked by a table of burly men who lacked appendages and sobriety. The air around them was thick with the smell of tobacco smoke and cheap rum that was probably a health hazard. While they waited for Niall, the two men sat at the rickety table. 

It only took a few minutes before the blonde was trudging through the crowd with three ales balanced in his grip. Louis stood up and grabbed one, earning himself a thankful smile in response. 

“Cheers!” Niall shouted once he sat down, his mug thrusted towards the other two. 

Louis and Steve mimicked the action and clank their beers together. A pleased hum reverberated from Louis’ throat as he guzzled the cool liquid. He smacked his lips when he swallowed, his eyes raking through the crowd that surrounded them. 

“Oi! Twatters!” Niall shouted, his hand frantically flailing as he stared over Louis’ shoulder. 

Louis glanced over his shoulder and bit back a groan when he saw Harry stalking towards their table with Zayn and Liam in tow. 

“You can’t be serious,” Louis hissed at Niall. 

Niall rolled his eyes, “Ye should be thankin’ me, I’m going to get this all sorted out for you.”

“I don’t want it sorted out for me,” Louis huffed. 

Steve smirked as he patted Louis on the back, “It couldn’t get any worse than it already is, pal.”

“That’s the spirit,” Niall cheered Steve with his partially empty mug. 

When Harry stopped by the side of the table, Louis resolutely kept his gaze locked on the ale in his hand. He slightly titled his hand back and forth, intently focused on the swishing amber liquid. 

“Room for three more, gentleman?” Harry asked, already pulling out the chair across from Louis. 

“Always ‘ave room for you, Captain,” Niall said with a sickeningly sweet voice. 

Louis heard a smack and he assumed that Harry had slapped Niall upside the head. His voice was teasing when he responded, “Nobody likes a kiss arse, Sailing Master.” 

“Depends on what kind of arse kissing,” Steve snickered. 

A sharp laugh shot out of Harry’s mouth, “I knew I had a good feeling about you, Aoki.” 

“Alright, Tomlinson?” 

Louis snapped his head towards Liam. He nodded, “Alright.” 

Liam sat in the seat next to him and gestured towards the tavern, “Do you like it?” 

“I do,” Louis eagerly nodded, his eyes briefly flitting across the table to see that Harry was watching him. “I didn’t know there would be so many…” He rolled his hand in the air in a vague gesture towards a group of women bustling past the table. 

“Women?” Zayn supplied as he leaned back against his chair. 

Louis nodded.

“Does that make a difference to you?” Harry bluntly asked, one of his brows raised challengingly. 

There was an uncomfortable silence stretched between the four other men, everyone blatantly choosing to look anywhere other than the captain and Louis. 

“Would it matter to you if it did, Captain?” Louis asked before he thought any better of it. 

Apparently, it was the wrong question because Steve immediately stomped on Louis’ foot with the heel of his boot. Louis’ knee jerked upwards and it unceremoniously hit the underside of the table. He bit back a grimace, internally knowing that he failed nonchalance. 

Harry folded his arms behind his head, his posture nothing short of confident as he vacantly stared back at Louis. 

“No, it wouldn’t,” he easily said. 

Louis knew that Harry was trying to get a rise out of him, but there was an embarrassing part of him that was flustered by his response. That Harry could effortlessly pretend that he didn’t care about Louis. If Louis had any romantic feelings towards the other man, which was something that he still wasn’t sure of, Harry was suggesting that they were not reciprocated. It left a bad taste in Louis’ mouth and an anger thrumming through his blood.

“Forgive me if I am wrong,” Louis sat up straighter in his chair with his eyes narrowed, ignoring the pleading looks from Niall and Steve, “But, I distinctively remember you telling me that if you cannot explain the reasoning for a question, it is a question that should not be asked.” 

“Fucks sake,” Niall huffed under his breath, his hands moving to cover his face in embarrassment. 

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, his dimple pressing its way into his cheek as he grinned. He leaned forward and with an impish glint in his eyes, he asked, “And what would you guess my reasoning would be, savvy?” 

Louis smirked as he mirrored the captain’s stance, “Now that would be too bold for me to say.” 

Harry opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when two women flanked his side. One had thick red hair stacked on top of her head while the other had blonde ringlets, both flushed from the wine bottles clutched in their hands. Louis frowned at their powdered wigs and caked faces as they pressed their hips against Harry’s biceps. 

“Captain,” the redhead giggled as she swayed her weight into him. “We ‘eard that’s yer pretty ship docked there,” she hiccupped as he gestured towards the general direction of the port. 

“We do love _big_ ships,” the blonde tacked on with her red stained lips. 

“ _Really_ love them,” the redhead nodded. 

Louis rolled his eyes and looked towards Zayn’s amused expression, “Seriously?” 

Liam snorted and craned his neck so his lips were by Louis’ ear, “Happens more times than not.” 

“And I assume you’d like to see it up close?” Harry asked with an overly suggestive tone as he moved his arms to circle the women’s waists. “Know what it feels like rocking underneath you?” 

“Christ, I am not drunk enough for this,” Louis groaned, pushing his chair back. He glanced towards Niall who was already rising to his feet, “I’m feeling a change of scenery, Neil.” 

Niall rolled his eyes, “Course you are.” 

“Leaving already, Tomlinson?” Harry asked with a faux look of concern, his bottom lip obnoxiously jutted out. “Pity.” 

“Need to find some company of my own, Captain,” Louis flicked his fringe away from his eyes. 

Harry straightened his back at that, “No you are not.” 

“Don’t worry,” Louis took a step away from the table, “I won’t bring _him_ back on board.” 

Without waiting for a response, Louis turned and strode away from the table. He heard a chair scraping behind him and the pair of voices following him suggested that Steve and Niall were leaving too. The moment Louis pushed through the entryway and stumbled back to the cobbled streets, he let out a frustrated groan. 

“Remember when I said it couldn’t get any worse,” Steve drawled out, causing Louis to turn around and look at him, “I was wrong.” 

Niall began to cackle, his head tossed back as laughter rumbled through him. The infectious sound caught on, making Louis’ frown dissipate and join in. He shook his head as they laughed at his own ridiculousness. Niall slung his arms around Louis’ neck and he affectionately patted him on the chest with his free hand. 

“That was brilliant,” Niall sighed as his laughter died down. “Stupid…But, brilliant.” 

“He just,” Louis stopped to make an infuriated sound. 

“Yer just as bad as ‘im,” Niall chuckled, his head loosely shaking from side to side. 

“I thought,” Louis started and then anxiously paused as he looked between Niall and Steve. 

Steve jostled him in the side, “You thought…” 

After a moment of apprehension, Louis peeked at Niall from his peripheral, “I thought you said Harry was interested in men.” 

Niall squeezed his shoulder, “Aye.”

“Then what was that?” Louis irately huffed, pointing towards the tavern they were in. 

“He usually doesn’t pay ‘em any mind,” Niall shrugged. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as trepidation creased his forehead. “But…”

Louis shrugged Niall’s arm off of his shoulder, his eyes sharp as he said, “I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Just don’t take offense if somethin’ does happen,” Niall carefully said. 

Louis’ jaw clenched as he reflexively looked back at the tavern. He stiffly nodded, “Right.” 

There was a harsh tug on Louis’ heartstrings from the implication of Niall’s words. It wasn’t from the fact that they were women, or maybe it was, Louis couldn’t keep up with the unfurling nonsense rolling through his head. He just didn’t particularly enjoy seeing two other people hanging off of Harry as if he was a prized piece of meat. It didn’t have anything to do with jealousy. Definitely not. 

“C’mon,” Steve quietly mumbled, taking a few steps backwards. “Let’s get you a fresh ale and some other drunken bastard.” 

“Plenty o’ fish in the sea,” Niall agreed, gently pushing Louis forward with a hand on his lower back. 

“I’m being stupid,” Louis rolled his eyes at himself as they shuffled towards the next tavern. “He can fuck whoever he wants, doesn’t matter to me.” 

“There’s a good lad,” Niall encouraged. 

The three men walked into the tavern and immediately stalked towards the bar. It wasn’t as crowded as the previous tavern, but it was still thriving with music and stumbling pirates. Niall continued to buy them round after round, each pint making Louis’ head go fuzzy. After the sixth ale, Louis stopped counting and profusely thanking Niall for footing the tab. 

After their second hour in the poorly lit tavern, they were stood on top of a table. Louis’ arm linked with Niall’s as they rather shouted than sang with the patrons of the bar. Steve got his hands on one of the musician’s fiddle, his fingers quickly plucking along to Hanging Johnny. 

“I’d hang to make things jolly!” Niall sang as the heels of his boot clicked against the wooden surface. 

Louis thrusted his ale glass in the air, “I’d hang all wrong and folly!”

“They call me Hanging Johnny!” Louis and Niall shouted together, their cheeks ruddy and eyes glistening from tears of laughter. 

The rest of the bar clapped along and in unison, they sang the final, “They call me Hanging Johnny!” 

Everyone cheered together, mugs smashing against one another as all of the patrons took a large swig from their ales. Louis titled his head back as he emptied the remaining bit of beer into his mouth, a few drops slipping from his bottom lip to his chin. When he finished, he unsteadily hopped off of the table, slightly swaying as he gathered his footing. 

“Whoa there, mate,” A pirate cackled, his hand steadily gripping Louis’ bicep as he teetered to the side. 

“Apologies,” Louis hiccupped, his hand gripping around the other man’s wrist. 

His eyes focused on the man helping hold him upright. He stood a few inches taller than Louis, his brown hair pushed away with a tattered cobalt headscarf. There was an amused smirk playing on his lips and he was far from the other disgruntled pirates that Louis had accidentally bumped in to throughout the night. 

“One too many, aye?” The man asked, his head cocked to the side. 

Louis shrugged a tad disjointedly, “Possibly.” 

“Room for another?” 

“Possibly,” Louis playfully smirked. 

The pirate rolled his eyes, “S’ a yes or no question.” 

“Then…” Louis drawled out as his eyes flitted towards Niall and Steve, both of them were making crude gestures with their hips towards him and the pirate. He stifled a laugh as he answered, “Yes.” 

A pleased glint twinkled his brown eyes as he gestured for Louis to lead the way to the bar. Louis’ head felt airy as he walked, his eyes slightly unfocussed on the array of empty mugs strewn across the bar.

“Oi!” The pirate shouted towards the barkeep. “Marty! Give me two more, aye?” 

“Aye,” The plump man nodded, quickly producing two fresh ambers. 

Louis took a sip of his as the pirate tossed two schillings towards Marty. 

“Don’t reckon I’ve seen you ‘ere before,” The other man said once they stepped away from the lip of the bar. 

Louis snorted, “I’ve never been to Tortuga before tonight so that would make sense.” 

“Fresh meat, hmm?” The pirate mused as he took a long pull from his mug. 

“Louis,” He introduced himself as he politely held out his hand. 

“Couldn’t tell you the last time someone greeted me with a handshake,” The man smirked as he clasped Louis’ hand in his own. “M’ Nick.” 

“So aside from giving up hygiene,” Louis pointedly cocked his eyebrow, “I also should forget basic politeness. Alright, got it,” Louis joked, biting back a smile as Nick’s face lit up in response. 

“Exactly,” Nick winked. “How’d you end up ‘ere anyways? Yer far too polite to belong somewhere like this shithole.” 

“Bit of a long story,” Louis mumbled, unintentional irritation lacing his tone. 

Nick leaned the back of his thighs against a nearby table, his long legs crossing at his ankles as he got situated. “Good thing I love stories, savvy.” 

Louis groaned, “First off, I’m quite tired of being called, savvy.” 

“How long ‘ave you been at sea?”

“Nearly a fortnight,” 

Nick cackled, his eyes reduced to small slits as heat rushed to his cheeks. 

Louis slapped him on the chest, “Alright, _maybe_ I am a bit of a savvy.”

“A bit?” Nick croaked, laughter still evident in his voice. 

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy being called it.” 

“Aye,” Nick cocked his head to the side, a slight fondness lingering in his expression. “As you were saying…” He drawled out as he pulled Louis closer towards him with his fingers looped in his belt. 

Louis flushed at the blunt advance, his weight slightly wobbling as he stopped between Nick’s parted legs. “Oh, um,” He stammered, his voice embarrassingly high as Nick trailed a finger along the center of his chest.

 _“You were being serious?”_

Instantly, Louis whipped around to see Harry standing a few feet behind him. His expression was stormy, eyes clouded as they switched from Louis’ dumbstruck expression towards Nick’s oblivious one. He had a fist clenched at his side while the other threateningly rested on the head of his sword. 

Louis took a step away from Nick, “No, I wasn’t being serious.”

Harry flailed his hand towards Nick, “I’m not blind, Louis. Clearly you were!” 

“As if you have any room to talk!” Louis spat back. 

Harry closed the space between them, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

“The two women, remember them?” Louis sneered, his chin jutted upwards as he met Harry’s glare. “You have some nerve, Captain.” 

“So you’re getting back at me, are you?” Harry’s voice lowered as he stood toe to toe with Louis. 

“Listen, mate,” Nick started, putting a hand on Louis’ shoulder as he spoke to Harry, “I think you should go.”

Harry’s attention darted towards Nick’s hand on Louis. Without warning, Harry pushed Louis to the side and drew his sword. The sound of the metal pulling from its sheath grabbed the attention of everyone in the tavern, the music teetering to an end as people watched. Louis’ eyes widened as Harry stepped closer to Nick, the tip of his sword threateningly pointed towards Nick’s jugular. 

“Don’t tell me what to do in regards to my crewman,” Harry threatened. 

“You sure you want to do this?” Nick asked, slowly drawling his own sword. 

Harry glimpsed at Louis from his peripheral and Louis was shaking his head from side to side, silently begging him to back down. 

“Aye,” Harry gritted out. 

Harry delivered the first swing, aiming for Nick’s neck from the start. Louis yelped as Nick deflected the blow with a quick turn of his wrist. With a quick step forward, Harry shot a harsh kick towards Nick’s chest. Nick tumbled backwards and roughly landed against a wooden beam that extended from the floor to the ceiling. Nick ducked just as Harry cut the air between them. 

Nick darted towards the side, pushing other pirates out of his way as he leapt onto a near table. Harry was quick to move after him, his strides long as he bounded onto the same table. 

“Would you look at that, two captains fighting over you. Quite the accomplishment, savvy.” 

Louis’ eyes flitted from the two men delivering blow after blow to see Zayn standing next to him with an amused expression. 

“They’re not fighting over me,” Louis weakly said. 

“Tomlinson, that is exactly what is happening,” Zayn deadpanned. 

“Wait,” Louis shook his head, “ _Two_ captains?” 

“Nicholas Grimshaw,” Zayn nodded towards Nick. “Ever ‘eard of him, landlubber?” 

Louis’ eyes widened, “He slaughtered our last governor!” 

“Aye,” Zayn grinned, a tinge of nostalgia layering his voice. “Bought him a pint for that one.”

“How are you not worried about Harry?!” Louis admonished, his voice shaking as he watched Harry dodge a jab directed towards his abdomen. 

“Captain has never lost a fight,” Zayn simply said as he folded his arms. 

“Never?” 

“Never.”

Louis’ attention was back on the fight as he heard a pained groan, his heart lodged in his throat as he frantically looked between the two pirates. Nick was doubled over with his hand against his side, his tunic turning red from a sharp cut along his ribs. Harry’s cheek was matted with blood, looking relentless as he glowered down on Nick. 

Harry fisted the collar of Nick’s shirt and hauled him close, his lips whispering something too quiet for the rest of the tavern to hear. After a moment of hesitation, Nick stiffly nodded. Tightening his fist, Harry chucked Nick off the table and onto the ground. Louis hands clamped over his mouth as he watched Nick lay on the ground with his hands pressed against his side. A group of men flocked around Nick, immediately tending to him. Louis suspected that they were his crew. 

From his peripheral, Louis caught the tail end of Harry’s jacket as it flitted out of the entrance. Without much thought, Louis raced after the captain. He pushed through the gathered pirates who were watching the spectacle and left the tavern. His heart was thundering in his chest as his head swiveled from left to right, looking for a trace of Harry. 

In the dim light, he saw the outline of the pirate as he strode towards the docks. Louis hurried after him, the soles of his feet pounding against the packed dirt. 

“Harry!” He breathlessly yelled when he was close enough to the other man. 

The captain froze in his place, his shoulders tense. He looked over his shoulder and there was a hint of confusion painting his face as he locked eyes with Louis. 

“What’re you doing here, Louis?” 

Louis slowed his movements and stopped a few feet from the other man. He kicked the toe of his boot into the ground, nervously toppling a few rocks to the side. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” He murmured, his voice too honest for his liking. 

Harry looked at him apprehensively, his eyes shifting from Louis and back towards the tavern. “Shouldn’t you be checking on Nick?” he asked exasperatedly. 

Louis stared at the cut lining Harry’s cheekbone, the sight settling an uneasy feeling in his gut. He shook his head, “You got hurt.” 

“I stabbed a man in the side and you’re worried about a scrape?” Harry asked with his head slightly titled to the side, a small smile threatening to tug at his lips. 

“Yeah, well,” Louis awkwardly coughed, a blush turning his cheeks rosy. He shrugged as he looked back at Harry, “So, um, are you alright?” 

Harry slowly nodded, “Aye.” 

“Okay, good,” Louis rushed out. He looked back at Harry’s cheek and winced, “Do you want help cleaning that up?” 

“Are you serious?” Harry breathlessly laughed as he took a step backwards.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Louis took a step forwards and rolled his eyes. “You look horrible and there aren’t any mirrors aboard. You’d never get all the blood off of you.” 

Harry took another step backwards, as if he was testing to see if Louis would follow him. “Why would you care what I look like?” Harry impishly asked. 

“The crew shouldn’t be punished because you can’t wash properly.” 

“So you want to clean me up…For the crew?” 

Louis took two steps forward and lightly pushed his hand against Harry’s chest to make him move. 

“Exactly.” 

Harry beamed, “Okay.” 

****

“Stop fidgeting,” Louis huffed out in faux annoyance. 

The two men were tucked away in the captain’s quarters, the space eerily quiet due to the rest of the crew still carousing Tortuga. Harry sat on the edge of the bathtub, his chin angled so Louis could clean his cheek with a damp rag. Louis stood between Harry’s parted thighs, his tongue slightly poking out between his teeth as he lightly dabbed against the cut. 

“M’ not fidgeting,” Harry mumbled under his breath. 

“You are,” Louis easily countered, quickly proven right by Harry flinching away when he pressed against the cut. 

For the following few minutes, Louis carefully wiped away the residual blood. Harry’s breathing was even underneath him, small puffs of air rushing past his lips and onto Louis’ wrist. Occasionally, Louis dipped the rag into a bucket of fresh water to clean it. 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis quietly murmured as he patted a dry cloth against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry slowly lulled his eyes open, the green irises warmer than they had been. He nodded, “Aye.” 

“Before you tossed Nick,” Louis hesitantly began, lowering his hand so he wouldn’t be distracted, “You told him something.” 

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together for a moment until realization smoothed his expression. Again, he nodded, “Aye.” 

Louis wrung out the wet cloth and laid it on the lip of the tub. Cautiously, Louis sat next to Harry, their knees a fraction of an inch apart. 

“What did you tell him?” 

“Do you really want to know?” Harry asked after a moment, his eyes resolutely staring out of the barrel window. 

Louis nodded, “I do.” 

Harry turned his head and looked Louis in the eyes, “I told him not to touch you again or I’d cut off his right hand.” 

“You _what_?” Louis asked on a surprised laugh. 

The captain had the decency to look a tad contrite as he shrugged, “He’s not good for you.” 

“Honestly, you’re ridiculous,” Louis shook his head. He nudged Harry in the side, “You were with two women and you get in a sword fight when I talk to another man.” 

“Um, right,” Harry stammered. He pushed his hair away from his face, “I didn’t, um, I didn’t do anything. With the women.” 

Louis quieted and tangled his fingers in his lap, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Harry quietly exhaled. 

“Right, well,” Louis cleared his throat and stood to his feet. “I think I should be going down to my quarters. Try to finally get some sleep.” 

Without waiting for a response, Louis strode to the double doors. 

“Louis?” 

He paused with his hand on the door handle and remained looking forward, “Yes?”

“Were you going to sleep with Nick?” 

There was a vulnerability tinging his tone and Louis had a feeling that if he turned around, he would see it reflected in Harry’s expression. At the same time, Louis couldn’t be positive and if he was wrong, he was sure that it would send his heart plummeting. Louis kept his eyes trailed on the splintered wood as he shook his head. 

“No.” 

As Louis stepped outside, he heard an exhale from behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support you have given me during this adventure! I have really enjoyed writing this fic and it means the world to me that other people seem to love it just as much. 
> 
> Fair warning this chapter is a bit of doozy, pace yourself. 
> 
> If you have nice things to say, please leave a comment, I like reading them!
> 
> -xx Lis

“Alright, run it by me again.” 

Louis exaggeratingly groaned as he continued to pace across the quarterdeck. Niall had his hands gripped around two spokes of the wheel, his eyes darting between the horizon and Louis. Steve was sat on the banister that overlooked the main deck, his feet lightly swaying as he listened. 

“Niall, I’ve told you ten times now,” Louis pouted, his hands shifting to rest on his hips. 

“And I want to give ye educated advice,” Niall chirped, completely unperturbed by Louis’ antics. “Now tell me how it sounded.” 

“Alright,” Louis rolled his eyes and stopped his pacing. “I told him no and as I was leaving, it sounded like,” he broke off to exhale a light sigh. 

“Okay, like a,” Niall mimicked the sound, putting a tad more yearning into the noise than Louis had. 

“No,” Louis shook his head and made the sound again. “A little less loud, but I know I heard it.” 

“Got it,” Niall nodded seriously, his forehead slightly wrinkled in concentration. 

“So…” Louis drawled out, his fingers fidgeting by his side as he looked between Niall and Steve. “What do you think it meant?” 

Steve shrugged, “This is all beyond me, if I’m being honest.” 

“Useless,” Louis huffed out. “What do you say, Niall?” 

“Sounds like he was relieved you weren’t goin’ to get yer cock wet,” Niall mused.

Louis groaned as his nose scrunched up, “Do you _always_ have to be so vulgar?” 

“Aye,” Niall laughed, easily shrugging his shoulders unapologetically. 

There was a heavy set of footsteps trotting up the staircase, pulling all three men’s attention towards the sound. Liam bounded to the top step with a slight flush in his cheeks, his tunic already matted with sweat from running around deck all morning. He looked worse for wear and it hadn’t even reached mid-day. 

“You alright, mate?” Niall laughed. 

“The hold brushed against a bit of coral last night and I ‘ad to go an’ patch it up.” Liam begrudgingly scowled. “Perry is helping get rid of the extra water, but I swear I want to gut him out anytime he opens his mouth.” 

“I’d help you,” Louis piped, having an irrevocable sense of hatred for the man. 

Liam grinned and clasped Louis on the shoulder, “Good lad.” 

“Is it all patched?” Niall asked, a frown tugging his lips downwards as he looked at the billowing clouds in the sky. “Suspect we’re in for a bit of a storm tonight.” 

“Aye,” Liam gingerly nodded, looking a bit worried as he watched the grey sky circle above them. “Right,” he shook his head and replaced his grimace with a private grin, “Captain wants Aoki and Tomlinson in his cabins.” 

“Why?” Louis anxiously asked, glancing towards Steve who was equally confused. 

Liam folded his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels with faux innocence, “You’ll see.” 

“Go on,” Niall rolled his eyes. “If he was tossin’ ye lot, he wouldn’t have given you a formal invitation.” 

“Clearly you’ve never seen a formal invitation,” Louis mumbled. 

Louis and Steve followed Liam down the steps, keeping a respectful distance between them. They paused outside of the captain’s quarters, waiting for Liam to knock on the doors. 

“Aye,” Harry called from inside. 

Liam pushed the door open and gestured for Louis and Steve to file in. Louis frowned when he saw Gemma lounging on Harry’s bed, her dagger mindlessly twirling between her fingers. Harry was bent over the table, his eyes trained on a map stretched across the surface. 

“Look who decided to finally join us,” Gemma drawled out as she stopped her ministrations to glower at Louis and Steve. 

“Right, I’ll leave you to it,” Liam curtly bowed his head and then exited the room. 

After a moment of silence, Harry pulled his eyes away from the map. He stood straight and stared at the two men with a small smile. 

“Gemma,” the captain glanced at his sister and then nodded towards the corner of the room. 

She huffed and pushed herself off of the bed, “Captain thinks you’re both ready for your swords.” 

Louis’ eyes widened, whipping his head towards Steve, “Have you been training, too?” 

Steve smirked as he shook his head, “I was a blacksmith my whole life, I’ve had plenty experience with swords.” 

“Oh,” Louis said quietly, his bottom lip unintentionally jutting out. 

“Stop yer pouting, Tomlinson,” Gemma scoffed as she laid out an assortment of swords along the bed. “This is what you’ve been asking for since you got on this bloody ship.” 

Harry stepped away from the table and held his hand out towards the different blades. Hesitantly, Louis made his way to the bed, his eyes trailing over the shining steel. Steve immediately ran his fingers over the different handles with a giddiness that Louis hadn’t seen before. 

“Do you mind?” Steve politely asked as his hand gripped around a golden hilt. 

“Get a feel for one you like,” Gemma nodded, taking a step back as Steve picked up the blade. 

Louis tugged on his bottom lip as he looked between the four other blades. They weren’t ornate like Harry’s but they were still sharpened and in quality condition. Three of the four had silver handles and each of the blades were slightly different in length and width. He glanced over his shoulder when he felt Harry step behind him. 

“How do,” Louis started and cut off to lower his voice, not wanting to be openly mocked by Gemma. “How do you even know which one is right?” 

Harry’s chest lightly brushed against Louis’ shoulder blade, sending a light trill throughout his body. He kept his eyes on the swords, but his attention was zeroed in on the feeling of Harry’s breath lightly puffing against the back of his neck. He smelt of roses and Louis wondered if he had bathed in the fancy oils when Louis had left his quarters the night before. 

“Do you want my advice?” Harry carefully asked, his tone lacking any condescendence. 

Louis nodded and mumbled, “Aye.”

“I’ve watched you practice with Gemma,” he lowly admitted, the information bringing an unexplainable flush to Louis’ cheeks. “You’re quick and your strength is in your legs,” Harry continued, the tip of his finger lightly sweeping against the side of Louis’ right thigh. 

“Right,” Louis weakly said, his eyes lulling shut for a fraction of a second as Harry applied a slight pressure against his thigh before pulling his hand away. “So, what does that mean for a sword?” 

Harry reached around him and picked up the sword with the golden hilt, “It means that you need a light sword that allows you to be quick.”

Louis took the sword from Harry’s grip, wrapping his fingers around the hilt to get a feel for it. It was slightly heavier than the broomstick, but not by a terrible amount. The weight of the metal felt good in his hand as he gradually lifted his arm. 

“Good?” Harry asked, taking a step back. 

Louis nodded, carefully turning around with the blade in his hand. Harry was carefully watching him through hooded eyes that bore right into Louis’. His bottom lip was flushed red and Louis had a feeling that the captain had recently bitten into the lush skin. 

“That blade suits you.” 

Momentarily forgetting that they were not alone, Louis turned to look at Gemma who was watching them with a pointed smirk. Louis flushed under the attention, lowering his head and turning his chin against his shoulder. 

“It does,” Harry agreed, effectively pulling Louis’ attention back on him. 

“We should practice, make sure you’re not completely useless,” Gemma collectively said to Steve and Louis. “I can alternate between the two of you.” 

“No need to alternate,” Harry stepped in. He toyed with the handle of his own sword, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips, “You train with Louis every morning, let me have a go.” 

Louis’ jaw drooped as Gemma rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Aye.” 

Gemma and Steve shuffled out of the room, leaving Louis and Harry alone in the quarters. 

“Is this going to be your way of getting rid of me?” Louis asked as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “You think I’d get rid of you by stabbing you?” 

“Can’t say I haven’t considered it a few times,” Louis muttered. 

“Can’t say I haven’t either.” 

“Oi!” Louis shouted out on a laugh, immediately dropping the sword so he could repeatedly jab Harry in the stomach with his fingers. 

Harry was cackling as he pushed away Louis’ insistent fingers, the sound infectious as it rung throughout the room. Eventually he circled Louis’ wrists in one hand and pinned them against his chest. His eyes were wide with amusement as he grinned down at Louis. 

“You are the worst,” Louis huffed, the skin by his eyes still crinkled from laughter. 

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them. Louis’ hands were lax in Harry’s grip as his pulse rabbited in his neck. Harry looked younger than usual, any trace of seriousness wiped away and replaced by unadulterated happiness. As Louis’ gaze trailed from Harry’s eyes and towards the dimples pressed into his cheeks, he decided that he liked Harry best looking like this. 

“Laughter suits you,” Louis mumbled. 

He watched as Harry bit back a grin, failing miserably to hide how pleased he was by the comment. 

“You too,” he quietly said. 

Harry loosened his hold around Louis’ wrists, letting them slip from his grasp. Louis took a step back and scratched the back of his neck, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he stared at Harry’s boots. 

“Grab your sword,” Harry instructed, his voice raspier than its usual timbre. “We don’t have much time.” 

Louis frowned, “Why don’t we have time?” 

“Sword,” Harry said pointedly. 

“Right,” Louis huffed as he bent down to pick up the blade. 

Harry led them out of his quarters, easily parting his way through the slew of crew members that mulled around the deck. Louis trailed close behind him, ignoring the questioning looks being pelted his way from a few of the pirates. They went towards the front of the ship, only stopping by the back banister. 

“Scatter, you pack of bastards!” Harry shouted at a group of men who were hanging off of the back shroud. “Find Payne and make yourselves useful below deck.” 

“Aye, Captain,” they mumbled, a few nodded respectfully before they scurried off.

Louis anxiously fidgeted with the hilt of his sword as Harry drew his blade from its sheath. 

“Gemma had been leading for most of your lessons, aye?” Harry asked as he raised his sword. 

“Yes,” Louis nodded, reciprocating the action. 

Harry hummed thoughtfully and drew his foot backwards, “Let’s see how you do leading.” 

Louis nervously stepped forward, his eyes darting from Harry’s sword and his left hand. Sharply, he swiped the end of the blade towards Harry’s hand. Harry easily blocked the strike which a whip of his wrist, the clashing metal reverberating throughout the ship. 

“Going for my hand on the first go?” Harry quirked the corner of his mouth. 

Louis cut the air between them, aiming for Harry’s chest the second go around. Quickly, Harry leaned backwards, missing the blade by a few inched. With his brow furrowed, Louis continued to throw strike after strike, each one being deflected with minimal effort from Harry. 

“How do you do it?” Louis breathlessly huffed after five minutes of an entirely one-sided fight. 

Harry grinned, “You look where you’re going to strike each time.” 

“Do not,” Louis protested, immediately jabbing his sword towards Harry’s waist. 

Harry cackled as he stepped to the side, effortlessly missing the blow. He shook his head, “You just did it.” 

Louis groaned, easily becoming frustrated, “Can you help me?” 

“I can.”

“ _Will_ you help me?” 

“Possibly.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “And to think we were doing so well today.” 

“Think two steps ahead,” Harry instructed, choosing not to comment on Louis’ statement. 

“How am I supposed to predict what the other pirate is going to do?”

“You won’t need to if you’re leading,” Harry explained as he cocked his hip to the side. “If you’re leading, you’re orchestrating the entire dance.” 

“Alright…” Louis’ nose scrunched as he thought Harry’s statement. 

“Louis.” 

Louis glimpsed at Harry to see him thoughtfully watching him. 

“The reason I’ve never lost a fight,” Harry began as he crowded into Louis’ space. Louis instinctively took a step backwards which pulled a cocky grin from Harry, “Is because I never let anyone else lead.” 

Louis’ throat bobbed as his back dug into the ship’s banister. Harry gripped the banister with his free hand and caged Louis against the wood with the cradle of his hips. His weight was heavy against Louis as he purposefully aligned their bodies. Meticulously, Harry lowered his head and nosed against Louis’ cheek. 

“Just this once,” Harry murmured against Louis’ flushed skin, this breath sending trills through Louis’ bloodstream, “I want you to lead me.” 

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, “You, um, you want me to lead?” 

Harry nodded, his nose gently caressing his skin as he lowered towards the junction of Louis’ neck. “C’mon, Tomlinson,” he practically cooed, “Lead me.” 

A sense of determination flourished inside of Louis from Harry’s words. He ground his hips forward and into Harry’s, effectively catching him off guard and stumbling back. Louis slipped around him and knocked Harry’s sword from his hand with a quick jut of his knee. He crowded into Harry’s space, raising himself to the balls of his feet as he pressed the blade of his sword against Harry’s neck. 

“Yield,” Louis murmured, the silver steel glistening as it laid against Harry’s skin. 

When Harry didn’t readily answer, Louis gritted his teeth and kneed Harry in the solar plexus. Harry groaned, his eyes pinched shut as his nose scrunched in discomfort. 

“Didn’t think you had it in you,” Harry weakly huffed out as he gingerly held up his hands. “I yield.” 

Louis beamed, immediately lowering his sword and taking a few steps back from the pirate. Harry rubbed his abdomen where Louis had hit him. 

“Um,” Louis tugged on his bottom lip, suddenly nervous that he took things too far. “Are you alright?” 

Harry cocked his eyebrow as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “At least you didn’t make me a unic by going for my cock an’ balls.” 

“Or you know,” Louis breathed out on a laugh as he rolled his fingers in the air, “Cut your throat.” 

“That too,” Harry smirked as his long fingers instinctively ran along his neck. “Good to know that given a chance, you wouldn’t gut me.” 

Louis shrugged, “Keeping you on your toes, Captain.” 

“You know,” Harry mused as he folded his arms over his chest, “I’m still trying to figure you out, Tomlinson.” 

“What do you want to know?” Louis carefully asked as he moved to stand next to Harry. 

Harry squinted at him suspiciously, “You’d tell me?” 

Louis minutely lifted his shoulders, “Would you judge me?” 

“I do my best not to pass judgement where it’s not been earned,” Harry earnestly responded, his brows slightly pulled together as he stared at Louis. 

“Then…” Louis drawled out as he slumped to sit against the ground, patting the empty space next to him, “I’ll tell you.”

A small smile played on Harry’s lips as sat next to Louis, his long legs bent so that he could rest his forearms against his kneecaps. He toyed with a silver ring between his index fingers, the lush ruby catching the sunlight as he tilted it from side to side. 

“Why don’t you like your father?” 

“Wow, right for the jugular,” Louis huffed a humorless laugh, his head thudding back against the ship’s siding. He lolled his head to the side and looked at Harry, “He’s never been around for my family and I have no respect for a father that abandons his wife and children.”

“You have siblings?” Harry pressed. 

Louis nodded, “Five sisters and a brother.” 

“Six siblings?” Harry’s eyes comically widened as he watched Louis. “Fucks sake,” he chuckled, “And I thought just having Gems was a handful.” 

“Oi, you’re not wrong there,” Louis vaguely pointed towards the deck, “She _is_ a handful.” 

Harry chuckled, pulling his legs towards his chest so he could rest his chin on his knees. “She means well,” He fondly said with a gentle smile. 

“Does she?” Louis teased as he nudged Harry in the side with his elbow. 

“Sometimes,” Harry amended. “So,” he drawled out as he glanced towards the deck, “You never saw the commodore? Not even as a child?”

Louis tilted his head back and forth in consideration, “Less than ten times, I’d guess.” 

Harry shook his head, “He’s a horrible man.” 

“At least he sends schillings,” Louis snorted. 

“Doesn’t make him a proper father,” Harry pointed out. 

“I know,” Louis mumbled, his eyes locked on his boots. 

After a moment, Harry quietly murmured, “I didn’t know my father, either.”

Louis looked at Harry and for the first time, he saw genuine vulnerability reflected back at him. 

“No?” Louis gently asked, not wanting to ruin the quiet space they had built between them. 

Harry shook his head, “He left me mother and Gemma after I was born.” 

Gingerly, Louis walked his fingers across the floorboards between them. He hooked his fingers around Harry’s ankle, hoping that the gesture was reassuring. 

“It would seem we were both brought into this world by horrible men,” Louis feebly grinned. 

“That it would seem,” Harry softly smiled, his fingers dropping to curl around Louis’. 

Louis looked at their tangled fingers, silently reveling in the feeling of Harry’s hand encompassing his slighter one. 

“We could have turned out worse,” Harry mused. 

“Right,” Louis snorted, “Just pirates is all, nothing _too_ atrocious.” 

Harry grinned and his fingers lightly squeezed Louis’, “You just referred to yourself as a pirate.” 

“Yeah, well,” Louis shrugged as he bit back a smile, “The idea is growing on me.” 

“Aye?” 

Louis nodded, his eyes trained on Harry’s thumb as is lightly caressed the back of his hand. 

“Tell me about your family?”

“My mother is the loveliest woman in the world,” Louis started, his expression impossibly soft as he thought about her. “Before I had a tutor, she would spend hours with me at the piano, patiently helping me on even though I was a miserable student.” 

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest that you were a difficult student?” Harry laughed and his head lolled back against the wood. “Did you at least enjoy it?” 

Louis nodded, “I did. Much more than maths or French lessons.” 

“Remind me to get you to a piano next time we port,” Harry lightly nudged him in the side. “I want to see if the lessons paid off.” 

“I am not playing for you,” Louis rolled his eyes as a flush crept along his neck. 

“And why not?” Harry asked, sounding genuinely offended. 

Louis shrugged, “I wasn’t all that talented at it.” 

“I think you are being modest,” Harry decided, completely ignoring Louis’ glare. “Were you close with your mother?” 

“Thick as thieves,” Louis winked, pulling a dimpled smile from Harry. “Although,” he drawled out, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, “We didn’t always agree on the bigger picture.” 

“The bigger picture?” Harry asked, a slight crease forming between his brows. 

“She was trying to marry me off the morning that, um, well, I got captured,” Louis mumbled. 

“Oh.”

“Exactly,” Louis exhaled on a weak laugh. 

“And,” Harry started, his voice cutting off for a moment as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. “You didn’t – You don’t want to be married?”

“Not to her.”

“Right."

Louis sighed and titled his head to the side to look at Harry. The other man mirrored his position, his green eyes curiously wide they bore into Louis. His cheeks were as rosy as his slightly parted lips. One of his renegade curls was slightly hanging in his face, blown out of place from the salty wind. 

Carefully, Louis raised his hand and thumbed the piece of hair. Harry’s eyelids briefly shut as he tucked the curl behind his ear. For a moment, Louis didn’t pull away, his thumb lightly swiping along Harry’s jawline. Harry turned into his hand, his nose pressing against Louis’ palm. When he felt a slight pressure of Harry’s lips against his skin, Louis’ breath got lodged in his throat. 

“It might make me a selfish man,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ skin, only pulling away so he could look at Louis in the eyes, “But…I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Oddly enough,” Louis quietly said, his voice almost swept away in the sound of the waves, “I think I am too.” 

“CAPTAIN!” 

Louis’ hand dropped from Harry’s face as a thunder of footsteps approached. Harry was quick to dart to his feet, his sword immediately drawn as Liam and Zayn raced towards them. Their chests heaved from labored breaths as they halted in front of the two men, eyes wild and frantic as they gestured towards the quarterdeck. 

“We’ve come about the Black Charlatan!” 

A dark look twisted Harry’s previously soft expression, his lips curled into a smile, “How far out?” 

“No more than two leagues, Captain,” Liam answered, his weight anxiously shifting from foot to foot. 

Louis got to his feet and stepped beside Zayn, “Black Charlatan?” 

“The ship I’ve been tracking for the past fortnight,” Harry responded, already making strides towards the quarterdeck. 

“Are you ready for your first raid, Tomlinson?” Zayn smirked. 

“Right now?” Louis yelped, his eyes going comically wide as he instinctively palmed the hilt of his sword. 

“Aye,” Zayn nodded and pushed Louis towards the back of the ship. 

Louis felt as if his heart was pounding louder than the swell of the ocean around them as The Siren’s Scream plowed through the waves. The crew was frantic around him, each man shuffling towards their assigned post with swords brandished. There was an odd mixture of anxiety and giddiness that emanated from the pirates and Louis was hopelessly caught up in it. 

They jogged up the steps to the quarterdeck and Louis immediately flanked towards Niall’s side. Niall more pleased than anything, his blue eyes filled with excitement as he led them towards the other ship. 

“Why this ship?” Louis asked, his head whipping from side to side as he watched the crew yelling messages towards another. 

“Charlatan’s crew stole from Captain’s quarters at Port Royal,” Niall told him, his eyes briefly flitted towards Louis, “Captain made an example of the sorry lot who were on watch that night.”

“What did they take?” Louis cautiously asked as Harry stepped beside him. 

“My mother’s locket,” Harry gritted out, his irises flooded with mirth as he watched the horizon. He turned towards Louis, “Tomlinson, go to my cabin and fetch my red coat and hat. Bring a pin and a rose from the vase in the center of the table. Be quick about it.” 

Louis jerkily nodded without question, “Aye.”

He sprinted from the quarterdeck and roughly pushed his way through the other men as he bounded towards Harry’s cabin. Roughly, he pulled the door open and immediately strode towards the wardrobe. He pulled out Harry’s red jacket that he wore to Tortuga and the corresponding brimmed hat. There was a handful of roses in an ornate vase along the table and Louis mentally reminded himself to as Harry where the buds came from. 

Deftly, Louis plucked a single rose from the vase and scanned the table for pins. His fingers slightly trembled as he combed through a small wooden box, flicking through a collection of rings and pocket watches. He hissed as he accidently pricked his finger with the sharp tip of a pushpin, a small bead of blood pushing from the pad of his finger. Louis wiped it away against his trousers and then carefully picked up the pin. With the items in hand, he rushed back towards the quarterdeck. 

“Captain,” Louis sighed on an exhale when he stopped next to Harry. 

Harry grabbed his hat and situated it on his head, murmuring, “Thank you,” under his breath. Louis handed him the jacket next, helping tug it over Harry’s shoulders when his tunic bunched at long his arms. 

“Why the rose?” Louis asked, as he handed it to Harry. 

There was a collective snicker around him from the crew members, matching smirks on each of their faces as they looked between the captain and Louis. 

“You’ll see, savvy” Niall chirped, his teeth pressed into his bottom lip as he bit back a laugh. 

Harry nodded as he took the rode and pin, putting the items in a pocket along the inside of his coat. He strode towards the banister that looked out on the main deck, easily hopping onto the beam of wood. 

“All hands!” Harry bellowed out, catching the attention of every crew member. “Prepare to come about!” 

Louis watched at the pirates positioned themselves, each of them nonsensically shouting as they thrusted their weapons into the air. 

“Strike the colors!” Harry shouted. “Let them know who reigns hell upon their cunting lives!” 

The emblem of the rose and dagger billowed as the sail drooped down the main mast. Louis watched in awe as the symbol threateningly loomed over the Caribbean. He squinted as he watched the horizon, seeing the faint outline of a mast ahead. 

“We’re gaining on them,” Louis said in shock as the Charlatan grew larger and larger by the minute. 

Niall nodded, “We ‘aven’t met a ship that could match the speed of the Siren.” 

“Should I be doing something?” Louis panicked as he looked between the other men who all seemed to know their duties. “I feel like I should be doing something.” 

“Stay here until we come about,” Harry instructed. He cocked his eyebrow as he looked at Louis, “I don’t want you going on that ship, do you understand?” 

“Oh, let him have some fun,” Gemma called out as she trekked up the steps. Her hair was bound back by a strip of fabric, her face unobstructed by the long tresses. 

“No,” Harry sternly said. He turned towards Louis, “No matter what, you are not to leave this ship. That is a command, not a suggestion, Tomlinson.” 

“Will everyone else be going aboard?” Louis asked, his brows pulled together. 

“Not everyone,” Harry vaguely answered. 

Louis put his hands on his hips, “No, just all of you.” 

Harry stepped into his space and lowered his voice, “I don’t need you to be gutted during your first raid.” 

“I can do this!” Louis stressed, his hand flailing towards the other ship. 

“Do not fight me on this, Louis,” Harry shook his head. “I will lock you below deck.” 

The two men stood face to face in a standstill. Both glared as they sized each other up, silently urging the other to give in. Louis lifted his chin which only made Harry broaden his shoulders and step into his space. 

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes, “Fine.” 

“Good.” 

“Captain!” Niall shouted. 

Harry and Louis snapped their heads towards the right where Niall was pointing. They were approaching the left flank of the Black Charlatan. Louis rounded Harry and stepped towards the ship’s siding, his fingers anxiously gripping the banister. 

Similar to The Siren’s Scream, the other ship was covered in shrill pirates, each one waving their swords threateningly. The ocean was over encompassed the screaming men, the two assembled crews spewing insults at the top of their lungs. 

“Rain fire!” Harry yelled as he shoved his sword into the air. 

The sentiment was shouted down the line until it reached below deck to the men positioned by the cannons. 

_BOOM!_

Louis flinched at the ear splintering roar of cannonballs shooting out of their bores and through the muzzles of the canons. The opposing ship began to splinter from the attack, gaping holes ripping through the bow of the ship. His eyes widened as a canons began to fire back, the ship vibrating underneath his feet from each blow. 

“Canon!” 

Harry tackled Louis to the ground, his weight crashing Louis to the floorboards as a cannonball whizzed over them. Louis wheezed out an exhale, his head pounding from the fall. There was a distinct sound of wood cracking followed by a muffled groan from behind him. 

“You have to be mindful!” Harry shouted at Louis as he lifted himself. 

Louis lolled his head to the side and nearly dry heaved from the sight of a mangled body next to him. A splintered piece of wood was lodged in a pirate’s neck, his brown eyes unmoving as they lifelessly stared back at Louis. Specks of blood trickled from his pale lips and Louis felt as if his world was turned on its head. 

“Oh my god,” Louis scrambled to push Harry off of him. “I can’t – I can’t do this! Harry, move, I need to – Shit!” 

Harry firmly gripped his jaw and forced Louis to look at him, his eyes intent as they searched Louis’, “You can do this, Louis.”

Louis immediately shook his head, moving to look at the corpse beside him. 

“Don’t look,” Harry firmly shook him. Louis pinched his eyes shut as he rapidly breathed through his nose. “Look at me, focus on me.” 

“Harry –”

“Focus on me,” Harry reiterated, his volume lowering a tad but his stern timbre remained. 

Louis opened his eyes and stared back at Harry. There was movement all around them, each brash sound tempting to pull Louis’ attention away. Nevertheless, he listened to Harry and didn’t move. 

“You can do this,” Harry told him, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. “Remember, _you_ lead.” 

Louis weakly nodded, “I lead.” 

Harry nodded and then pushed himself off of Louis. He extended a hand and wearily, Louis let himself be pulled upright. 

“Now that Tomlinson has seen a dead body,” Gemma unceremoniously droned, “Can we go?” 

“Aye,” Harry strode towards the stairs. “Malik, Payne, and Gemma, with me.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Zayn grinned, his hand flicking in the air to gesture for the other two pirates to file towards the main deck. 

Louis watched the four of them bustle towards the deck with his heart furiously rabbiting in his chest. He turned towards Niall, “What do we do?” 

“Kill any sodding bastard we see,” He easily stated. 

“Right,” Louis faintly nodded. 

“Give me four lines!” Louis heard Harry command. 

He darted towards the banister in time to see Harry, Zayn, Liam, and Gemma swing towards the opposing ship on lines of rope. Louis’ eyes enlarged as he watched Harry spring onto the main deck of Black Charlatan, sword brandished and instantly cutting down the first pirate in his path. The other man unceremoniously fell to the ground as Harry pulled out the blade from his chest. 

“Tomlinson!” Niall shouted. 

Louis whipped around on his heel to see three crewmen of the Charlatan climb the steps of the quarterdeck. With his jaw drooped and the sound of cannons piercing the Caribbean, he raised his sword. 

“Come and get it you twatting sons of whores!” Niall mocked as he leapt towards the first pirate. 

Their swords clashed against one another, the other pirate nearly losing his footing as Niall continued to lead the battle. A tall man with receding ash hair forwarded on Louis, his toothless grin sardonic as he raised his sword. 

Louis’ panic was replaced with adrenaline when the man took his first swipe towards his neck. He ducked low and missed the swing by a handful of inches, confidence slowly creeping into his bloodstream. Louis popped back upright and jumped to the side, missing another one of Toothless’ blows. 

“Listen here, twat,” Louis gritted out as he took his first swing, nearly missing the pirate’s jugular. “I lead, not you.” 

With his leading foot, Louis darted forward and aimed to cut off the man’s left arm. He was deflected at the last moment, their blades stinging together as the night sky began to pull over. Louis bared his teeth and shoved the man with all of the force in his arms. The pirate fumbled backwards and a satisfied grin spread over Louis’ face as he began to lead. 

Plotting his strikes in advance, Louis swiped towards the pirate's neck for a second time, immediately being deflected. With his eyes locked with the other man's, Louis quickly lowered his sword and plummeted it into the pirate’s stomach. The sharpened blade easily pierced him and with help from Louis’ force, it jutted through his and out his back. Louis pulled the blade out and watched as the man crumpled at his feet. 

“Christ,” Louis mumbled under his breath, his eyes locked on the crimson blood along his sword. 

“There’s my lad!” Niall cheered, swooping in to pull Louis against his chest. “Yer first fight!”

A surprised laugh bubbled from Louis’ throat, “I – I actually did it!” 

“You did,” Niall beamed as he patted Louis once before stepping away. “Grab his pistol, you’ll be wantin’ one.” 

Louis’ nose scrunched as he looked at the dead man, “You want me to fire a pistol?” 

Niall cocked his hands on his hips and looked at him dubiously, “You just stabbed a man in the belly and you’re worried about a pistol? Pistols are the easy bit, just not as fun.” 

Gingerly, Louis kicked the man onto his back, grimacing at the blood staining his greasy tunic. He squatted and rifled through the man’s holster, pulling out a pistol and a small leather pouch. Louis held up the satchel and lightly shook it, the sound of coins clinking against one another ringing out. 

“Oi!” Louis shouted at Niall, tossing the pouch once the man looked. “Now we’re even.” 

Niall opened the pouch and cackled as he saw a small lump of schillings. He emptied the contents into his own satchel and then tossed the empty one back towards Louis. 

“Start collecting, savvy.” 

“Wait,” Louis stood up as he pocketed the pouch, “Did that make me an _official_ pirate?” 

Niall paused, his eyes slowly widening before he grinned softly, “Welcome to the family, Tomlinson.”

“You sound too sincere, Neil,” Louis teased, willing the blush on his cheeks to diminish. 

“Well, well, what ‘ave we here?” 

Louis turned around and saw two men slowly creeping towards them. In unison, Louis and Niall raised their pistols and each fired a shot. With bullets lodged in their chests, the two pirates went limp. 

“You were right,” Louis frowned. “That wasn’t nearly as exciting.” 

“Told ye,” Niall nodded in agreement. 

Louis turned towards the other ship, catching the flit of Harry’s red coat in the air as he battled two men on his own. He unintentionally flinched as a pirate attacked Harry from behind, his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck. Louis stepped closer, not even sure what to do until he saw the pirate cringe and release his hold. Harry turned around and Louis noticed that he managed to stab the man in the side with a dagger. He unceremoniously tugged the dagger out and slashed the man’s throat. 

“Remind me not to get on his bad side,” Louis mumbled. 

Niall clasped him on the shoulder as he laughed, “You mean again?” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Yes, again.” 

As the night rolled in, Louis’ attention darted between their own deck and Harry as he continued to cut down the other crew. There was a niggling premonition that continued to pull at Louis’ gut as dark clouds billowed above them. 

“I want to go over there.” 

Niall grunted as he kicked a pirate down the flight of stairs, “Yer not going over there.” 

“But –” Louis cut off, firing his pistol as a man swinging over from the Charlatan. The pirate dropped from the rope and landing in the water with a brash slap. He turned towards Niall, “I think something going to happen.” 

“Aye, somethin’ will happen,” Niall nodded as he wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead. “And that _somethin’_ is that Styles will drag that sorry excuse of a captain over ‘ere and make him suffer.” 

Louis pinched his bottom lip between his fingers, eyes shifting back towards the other deck, “How are you not worried?”

Niall shrugged, “Cos I’m not the one who fancies ‘im.” 

Louis scrubbed his hand through his hair, “There aren’t enough of our men over there.”

“You didn’t deny it that time,” Niall grinned, his eyes electric and slightly surprised. 

“Like I said,” Louis gritted out, “There aren’t enough of our men over there.” 

Niall rolled his eyes and surveyed the scene unfolding on the other ship. Gemma was in the process of strangling against the mizzen, his legs jutted out as she had thick rope wrapped around his neck and the post. On the quarterdeck, Liam and Zayn were teamed up against a group of three men. Louis watched as they continuously rotated between who they were fighting, the entire battle appearing like an orchestrated dance. 

Louis squinted as he combed over the deck for a second time, his eyebrows pinched together as he looked for a trace of ruby red. 

“He’s gone,” Louis murmured, his eyes frantic as he searched along the deck. “Niall, I don’t see him.” 

Niall’s lip was worried between his teeth as he squinted his eyes, obviously looking for Harry. “He’s probably in the captain’s quarters,” he slowly said, lacking the confidence that usually laced his tone. 

“Fuck that,” Louis spat, immediately turning to go down the steps. 

“Oh no ye don’t,” Niall huffed as he gripped Louis’ bicep and held him back. “He ordered you to stay here. For once, listen to ‘im.” 

“He could be hurt!” Louis shouted as he attempted to tug his arm free. “Let me go, Niall.” 

“Tomlinson, I will knock your sodding arse out if you try to leave this ship,” Niall warned as he tightened his grip. 

“I’m not going to sit here like some useless damsel if he’s in trouble,” Louis bit back, his eyes dark as he glared at Niall. 

“He’s _not_ in trouble!” 

“You can’t possibly know that!” 

“I do! I’ve known ‘im for years!” 

“I don’t give a shit how long you’ve known him, Niall!” 

“When you ladies are finished, I’d like a word.” 

Louis paused where he was tugging at Niall’s hair, his neck twisting to look behind him where Harry leaned against the banister with his arms folded over his chest. His head was cocked to the side and his smirk insinuated that he had heard majority of the exchange. 

“Harry!” Louis yelped, instantly cringing at the pitch of his voice. He pushed a giggling Niall away and coughed into his fist, “Um, I meant, Captain. Erm, hello?” 

“Glad to see you needed to be physically restrained in order to follow orders,” Harry shook his head, a laugh rumbling from his chest. 

“Why would you leave ‘im with me?” Niall exaggeratingly groaned. 

“Oddly enough,” Harry pushed himself off of the banister, “I thought he would listen to you.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Forgive me for being concerned about your well-being, _Captain_.”

Harry bit back a grin, schooling his expression as he plucked the rose and pin from the pocket of his jacket. The petals were slightly wilted, but remarkably enough, the flower survived in one piece. 

“You wanted to know what I needed the rose for, Louis?” Harry asked as he twirled the stem between his fingers. 

Louis hesitantly nodded, “Aye?” 

“Follow me,” Harry gestured for Louis to follow him with his index finger. 

Louis and Niall followed Harry down towards the main deck where the crew surrounded a man and a woman. Both of them were bound with their hands behind their back as they kneeled against the floor. The young woman was screeching, her face matted with tears and caked powder as she struggled in the shackles. The man on the other hand, blatantly her senior, was void of any emotion aside from rage as he stared down Harry.

“Captain Brett Clark,” Harry tutted with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Styles,” the man angrily spat back. 

Harry slowly pulled his sword from its sheath as he paced in front of the two prisoners, “You’ve managed to forget your manners in your old age, Captain.” 

“P-Please,” the woman stuttered out on a sob, her long brown hair hanging in her face from the motion. “I’ll give the locket back, just –”

“Obviously you’ll give the locket back, you blithering idiot,” Harry snapped. He stopped his pacing in front of the woman, pushing her hair aside with the tip of his sword. 

Looped around her neck was a thick silver chain that held a rose-shaped locket. The moonlight’s glow lightly danced against silver petals. Understanding flooded Louis’ head as he came to the realization that Harry’s obsession with roses had probably flourished from his mother’s locket. 

“You dare to wear it,” Harry murmured darkly, his voice resonating through the eerily quiet deck. 

Gemma stepped from the crowd with a stony expression, her eyes zeroed on the locket that hung from the woman’s throat. 

“What’s your name, pet?” She asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

A fresh set of tears rolled down the woman’s cheek as Gemma rounded behind her. She shuddered as Gemma kneeled behind her, Gemma’s nimble fingers thumbing the clasp of the locket. 

“I asked you a question,” Gemma tutted as he pulled the locket off of the woman’s neck and pocketed it. 

“Briana,” the woman faintly whispered. 

“Pretty name,” Gemma mockingly said as she pulled out her dagger. 

Briana lunged forward, but Gemma was quicker. 

“Let’s not do that,” Gemma instructed as she gripped a fistful of Briana’s hair and yanked her back against her chest. She held the dagger against Briana’s neck, “I want you to watch something.”

A malicious grin stretched across Harry’s mouth, “Your father stole my locket for you, did he not?” 

Briana shuddered in Gemma’s grasp, “Aye.” 

“Then it’s your fault he needs to die,” Harry simply stated with a slight shrug of his shoulders. 

“No!” She screamed, her body jerking in against Gemma’s chest. 

Harry turned towards the other captain, “Any final words, Captain?” 

“You can rot in Davvy’s locker, you son of a bitch,” He gritted between his teeth. 

“I’ve heard worse.” 

Then, without fanfare, Harry stuck his sword through the man’s heart. Briana’s shrieks died as her voice cracked and gave out, the only sound being her heavy breathing. Louis grimaced as a trail of blood trickled out of Clark’s mouth and onto the deck. Harry pulled his sword out and wiped the remaining blood against the captain’s jacket. Carefully, Harry stuck the pin into the stem of the rose. Louis watched as he bent forward and stuck the rose directly into the man’s chest. 

Harry stood up and vaguely gestured towards the crew, “Put him on a jolly.” 

A group of men moved to haul the corpse into a side boat, their movements quick as they worked around Harry. Louis’ eyes darted between Harry and Briana, attempting to gauge his next move. 

“Gemma,” Harry nodded. 

“Aye?” Gemma asked as she lightly trailed the blade along Briana’s neck. 

“Toss her.” 

Gemma stood and hauled the other woman with her. Briana twisted in attempt to break free, but it was useless. Louis watched with a slack jaw as Gemma guided them towards the plank that extended from the ship’s siding. With a shove, Gemma pushed her onto the plank. 

“Please,” Briana begged as she looked over the side of the plank. 

“No.” 

Gemma stomped her boot on the plank, effectively shaking the flimsy wood and sending Briana into the water. There was a round of cheering and applause from the crew in response, the men victoriously tossing their hats in the hair. Harry climbed the nearest shroud and whistled between his teeth, easily getting the attention of everyone on board. 

“Tonight,” Harry bellowed out, a large grin on his face, “We celebrate!” 

The men shouted back in affirmation, excitement palpable between them. 

“Get the tables set and rum flowing!” 

Harry jumped off of the shroud and stalked towards Louis, pausing to mumble in his ear, “Follow me.” 

Louis jerkily nodded, tuning to follow the captain to his quarters. He saw Niall watching him from the quarterdeck with a smug expression which Louis responded by mouthing, “Fuck off.” 

Harry shut the door behind them once they were in his quarters, eyes careful as he looked at Louis. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, closing the distance between them until there was only a foot of space separating the two men. He thumbed a small cut above Louis’ eyebrow, “You got hurt.” 

Louis shrugged, “Barely felt it.” 

“You made it out alive.” 

“Disappointed?” Louis cocked his eyebrow. 

Harry tilted his head from side to side, “Not _particularly_.” 

“Twat,” Louis scoffed, looking away from Harry’s intense gaze. 

After a moment, Harry mumbled, “You were worried about me.”

Louis shrugged, “Not particularly.”

Harry gently cupped Louis’ jaw with his hand, his thumb lightly pressing against the plush of Louis’ bottom lip. 

“No?” Harry murmured, his feet shuffling forward until the toes of their boots touched. 

He shook his head, his eyes darted towards Harry’s lips. 

“No.”

Louis’ eyes lulled shut as Harry gently swayed forward. He could feel his heartbeat race inside his chest as his lips slightly parted in anticipation. Lighter than the graze of a feather, Harry’s lips brushed against his cheekbone. It was delicate and almost cautious, barely lasting more than a moment before they were gone. Louis let out the breath he was holding and blinked his eyes open. 

“No?” Harry whispered, his mouth hovering over Louis’. 

“No,” Louis repeated as he closed his eyes and rocked onto his toes. 

With his fingers gripping the lapel of Harry’s jacket, Louis kissed him. 

Louis sighed as Harry’s lips slotted against his. Both of Harry’s hands cradled Louis’ jaw as if he was the most precious thing that he had ever beheld. It was overwhelming and not enough all in once. Every fiber of Louis’ being screaming for more but he was afraid to take it, not wanting to break the delicate moment that enraptured them. Harry’s lips were lush underneath Louis’ and his mouth tasted sugary like apples as he gently pulled away. Almost hesitantly, Louis let go of the jacket and met Harry’s eyes. Louis swore he saw every constellation reflected back at him in the form of endless green. 

Harry took an uneasy step backwards, the apples of his cheeks tinged pink. “Right,” he coughed, his voice gravelly. He longingly stared at Louis’ mouth and for a moment, Louis thought that he would kiss him again. Instead, Harry ran his fingers through his hair and he rushed out, “Come on, little dove, festivities await.” 

“Little dove?” Louis asked, his brow quirked upwards as something tugged at his heartstrings. 

Harry froze, his eyes wide as if he only just caught on to what he let slip. “Oh, um,” he drawled out, his eyes flitted everywhere other than Louis. He was stripped of the confidence that he usually strutted around with and Louis found himself to be entirely endeared by it. 

Louis huffed out a laugh and turned away. He looked over his shoulder to only see Harry resolutely staring at his mattress. Harry’s thick curls framed his face, his ruddy cheeks making him look cherubic and _sweet_. The realization caused Louis to come up with an idea. Deciding to take pity on him, he stepped towards the doors with faux nonchalance.

“Come on, Treacle.” 

Harry’s head lifted, his eyes bright as they met Louis’. His mouth jaunted into an uneven smile, teeth poking out from behind his parted lips. With a breathless laugh, he nodded and followed Louis out towards the deck.


	6. Chapter 6

When Harry and Louis reappeared from the cabin, the main deck was transformed from a battlefield to a banquet. Fallen pirates were discarded from the decks and the matted blood was swabbed away as if it was a distant memory. The five long dining tables were spread along the wooden planks and crew members meandered from table to table with pitchers of ale in hand. Harry strode towards the head of the center table, like he had the previous banquet. Louis briefly hesitated in his spot, unsure if he was to follow or settle farther down along the surface.

Harry pulled out his chair and glanced at Louis, his eyebrows slightly pulled together when he noticed Louis fidgeting in the same spot. A private smile warmed his expression and he tilted his head towards the empty seat towards his right. With an embarrassingly flush running along the back of his neck and a newfound giddiness pumping in his veins, Louis took the seat by the captain’s side. 

“Rum, ale, or wine?” Harry asked when Louis settled in his seat. 

Louis pointed towards a bottle of amber liquid, “Think I could use a whole bottle of rum after this evening.”

Harry’s hand faltered as he reached for the bottle, the corner of his mouth tipped downwards from Louis’ response. Louis’ eyes widened from the implication in his statement and he was quick to shake his head. 

“I meant the battle.” Louis lowered his voice when his eyes darted across from the table to see Gemma peering at them with interest, “Not, um, _y’know_ ….” 

“Oh,” Harry sighed out on a faint laugh, embarrassment tinging his expression. “Right.” 

“Tomlinson!” Niall shouted as he pulled out the chair towards Louis’ right. “Joining the big boys table, hmm?” 

“ _Ahem_.” 

Niall flinched, “Sorry, Gems.”

“Twatter.” 

Zayn and Liam filtered into the seats to Gemma’s side with an ironically relaxed grandeur. Louis subconsciously cocked his head to the side as he watched Zayn drape his arm around the back of Liam’s chair, his fingers lightly brushing against the nape of the other man’s neck. Harry passed the bottle of rum to him, but Louis wasn’t paying attention as he watched Liam lean into Zayn’s touch. 

“I think little Tomlinson here has finally caught on,” Gemma smirked against the lip of her goblet. 

“Don’t know ‘ow it took ye so long,” Niall snorted before he took a large swig of ale. When he lowered the mug, he accusingly pointed between Zayn and Liam, “This lot always smell of sex.” 

The apples of Louis’ cheeks turned crimson as the group stared at him, laughter evident in all five of their expressions. He scratched the back of his neck and awkwardly looked between the two men. 

“You two…Um, you’re…?” Louis stuttered, the flux in his voice impossibly high. 

Harry took pity on him and supplied, “They’ve been together the past….” His squinted his eyes as he looked at the pair, “How long has it been now? Five years?” 

“Six,” the two men answered in unison. 

Louis choked on his mouthful of rum, the liquid sputtering out of his mouth as he incredulously gaped at Zayn and Liam. The other five pirates were cackling at Louis’ expression, Harry’s sharp laugh louder and significantly more obnoxious than the others. 

“ _Six years_?!” 

Zayn nonchalantly shrugged, “We met when we were nineteen.” 

“How?” Louis asked as he took another drink, reveling in the slight burn of the rum. 

“Tortuga,” Liam answered, a soft grin playing across his fond expression. 

Zayn scrunched his nose as he bit back a matching smile, “I tried to stab him.” 

Louis barked out a laugh, “What’d you do that for?”

“Well I didn’t exactly get to, Tomlinson,” Zayn rolled his eyes. “I thought he cheated me at dice.” 

“You were going to kill Liam because you thought he cheated at a game?” Louis asked with an unimpressed look. 

“To be fair,” Liam held up his hand, “I was unusually lucky that round.” 

“How are you possibly defending him right now?” Louis bewilderedly asked as he flailed his hand towards Zayn. “He was going to _stab_ you.” 

Liam shrugged, “He thought I cheated ‘im.” 

“I swear,” Louis shook his head as he glanced at the group, “You are all temperamental children with weapons.” 

“Thievery isn’t something to be taken lightly,” Harry pointed out. 

“I didn’t say it should be,” Louis shot back. “I just…I don’t think your first resort should be to go around and stab everyone.” 

“Answer me this, Tomlinson,” Gemma said as she pulled out the rose locket from her pocket, “Do you think we overreacted to get this back?” 

There was an uneasy silence that stretched over the end of the table. Louis knew that he was being bated in the situation, but he didn’t want to ruin everything that had built up between him and Harry. He looked towards the captain and saw Harry curiously watching him, his brows slightly raised as he waited for a response. 

Eventually, Louis carefully asked, “Did he know what it meant to you?” 

“Well,” Gemma floundered for a moment, irritation clouding her eyes, “They took a few trinkets, but still, they stole me mother’s locket.” 

“So…No?” Louis took a sip from the bottle. 

“Watch yourself, Tomlinson,” Gemma seriously warned, her eyes glowering at Louis. 

“I’m not saying what you did is wrong,” Louis defensively held up his hands, anxiously avoiding looking at Harry. “I’m just saying that he probably didn’t know how much it meant to the both of you.” 

“Surprisingly enough,” Harry said, pulling Louis’ attention from Gemma. He didn’t look angry, exactly, just slightly confused by the different perspective. “You might have a point.” 

“You can’t be serious,” Gemma gaped. 

“I don’t regret what I did,” Harry quickly pacified her. “I wanted that locket back and I got it.” He looked back at Louis, his eyebrow slightly raised, “However, Louis does have a point that he didn’t know what it meant.”

Gemma sunk back against her chair, she mumbled a quiet, “Aye.” 

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Louis murmured, his eyes flicking between the bottle in his hand and Gemma’s defeated demeanor. 

“You didn’t,” She shook her head, dismissing him. 

Gemma lifted the locket and carefully handed it to Harry. Louis watched as he fastened the clasp around his neck, the rose pendant hanging heavily over the center of his chest. 

“It is beautiful,” Louis murmured to Harry as the others began to talk about the battle. 

“Aye,” Harry quietly agreed as he thumbed the rose petals. “It’s the only thing I have of hers.” 

“Tell me about her?” Louis tentatively asked. 

“Another time,” Harry nodded. Underneath the table, he squeezed Louis’ knee, “Not here.”

Louis wrapped his fingers over Harry’s hand and lightly squeezed, “Okay.” 

Harry turned back towards the conversation, his hand remaining on Louis’ leg. It took every ounce of self-control for Louis to remain a passive expression as he listened to Liam talk about a pirate that nearly clipped his wrist. Harry’s hand felt heavy against his skin, the weight somehow studying as if he was anchoring Louis in place. Absentmindedly, Louis lightly rubbed the pad oh his thumb along Harry’s skin. 

“Oi, it was just like back in Saint Martin!” Liam cackled, his cheeks ruddy from laughter and the ale gripped in his hand. “Zayn ended up choppin’ the bugger cos he went for me hand.” 

“He got too close for comfort,” Zayn rolled his eyes, fully unabashed by his past. “Would have done worse if Styles didn’t pull me back.”

“That was _ages_ ago,” Harry snorted and fondly shook his head. “You need to let it go, mate.”

“Give me another year and we’ll see,” Zayn impishly grinned. 

Harry raised his bottle and cheered Zayn, “Aye, we’ll see.” 

Any remaining tension slipped away with the pulling tides, friendly banter shooting between the group as they reminisced over past raids. While Louis would have expected to feel left out since he was the newest member, he was truly fascinated by the outlandish stories and felt included in the conversation. His giddiness was also probably due to the obscene amount of rum being consumed and Harry’s hand remaining against his thigh. 

“How did you all manage to end up here anyways?” Louis eventually asked, curiosity getting the best of him. 

“I commandeered Zayn and Liam’s ship,” Harry proudly beamed. 

Zayn swatted his hand in the air, “I would hardly call it _commandeering_.” 

“I stole your ship,” Harry cocked his eyebrow, “That is exactly what commandeering means.” 

“Rest of the crew was at port when he came aboard,” Liam directed his attention towards Louis. “He didn’t know Zayn and I were still below deck.” 

A sharp laugh flew out of Louis’ mouth, the skin by his eyes crinkled, “Did you two just walk up to the deck to find him on it?” 

“Not exactly…” Liam drawled out as his cheeks flushed scarlet. 

“I heard noise from below deck so, I went to have a look,” Harry mischievously grinned, his eyes darting between Zayn and Liam. “And I found those two fucking against a sack o’ barley.” 

Louis sputtered out a mouthful of rum as his eyes widened to size of saucers, “You’ve got to be joking.” 

“We were a bit too compromised to do anything about it,” Zayn easily said, not an ounce of shame layering his voice. 

“Offered them a place in my crew, they agreed to my terms, and here we are,” Harry finished. 

“What about you, Neil?” Louis expectantly turned towards the blonde. “How did Styles ensnare you, too?” 

“I resent that,” Harry admonished, lightly pinching Louis’ thigh. 

“He didn’t,” Niall shook his head with a dopey smile smacked on his face. “I asked him if I could join.” 

Louis’ eyebrows rose to his hairline, “Honestly?”

“Honest,” Niall sincerely nodded. “We were sat in a tavern, got to talkin’ about summat. By the end of the night, I asked if I could go with ‘im.” 

“And that was four years ago?” Louis pressed, his jaw still lightly drooped in disbelief. 

“Aye,” Niall beamed as he looked at Harry. “Best decision I’ve made in me early life.” 

“Hold on,” Louis reared back as he suspiciously peered at the group. “How old are all of you? Everything you lot have referenced has been years ago.” 

Niall raised his hand, “Twenty-three.” 

“Twenty-six,” Gemma nodded. 

“Twenty-five,” Liam answered, his thumb gesturing between both him and Zayn. 

Louis glared at Harry, “If you tell me that you are thirty, I’ll have your balls.” 

“Thirty-one,” Harry smirked. 

Louis’ jaw drooped, “ _What_?!”

Harry was silent for a moment, his expression solemn as he nodded. However, the facade didn’t last long because Niall broke out a hearty laugh, his head tossed back as he pointed at Louis’ dumbfounded expression. 

“Joking,” Harry grinned, obviously pleased with himself as his dimples appeared. 

Louis smacked him upside the head, “You are an infuriatingly horrible human being.” 

Harry batted his hand away, his fingers lingering against Louis’ wrist for a moment before he pulled away. 

“I’m twenty-four.” 

“Are you lying?” Louis narrowed his eyes. 

Harry grinned, his curls loose as he shook his head, “I’m not lying.” 

“You’re five years older than me,” Louis stated, his bottom lip slightly jutted out. 

“Is that a problem?” Harry asked, his voice almost too sincere as he stared back at Louis. 

Louis shook his head, “No.” 

“I thought you said you were eighteen?” Zayn piped in, his head cocked to the side. 

“My birthday was this past fortnight,” Louis shrugged. 

“While you were here?” Niall straightened his back, his eyes almost frantic as he waited for Louis to answer. 

Louis nodded, “Aye.” 

“We didn’t celebrate!” Niall shouted, looking genuinely upset at the newfound information. 

“I was a bit preoccupied being locked in the brig,” Louis rolled his eyes and them pointedly looked at Harry. 

Harry unapologetically shrugged and took a quick swig of rum, “You deserved it.” 

“Who cares,” Niall waved them both off, clearly undeterred from the daggers that Harry glared at him. “What matters, is that we should ‘ave a bonfire night!” 

Gemma perked up at that, “For once, Niall might be on to something.” 

“Bonfire night?” Louis cautiously asked as he looked around the table. 

“There’s an island, Tomlinson,” Harry explained, his tone lethargic as he rolled his fingers in the air, “La Désirade, it’s called. It’s barren, but this lot can’t seem to get enough of it.” Harry fondly rolled his eyes and continued, “From time to time, we’ll anchor by the shore and spend the night on the island.” 

“Pile up a bunch o’ wood and have a bonfire at night,” Niall excitedly tacked on as he rocked forward in his seat. 

“To be fair,” Zayn drawled as he watched Niall with his perpetual state of impassivity, “We’re not far off from it.” 

“What say you, Captain?” Liam asked. His voice was relaxed, but Louis could tell that he was trying his best not to look as openly eager as Niall. 

“I say…” Harry elongated, his eyes flitted towards Louis by his side, “We set course for La Désirade in the morning.”

There was a brash sound of tables dragging across the floorboards, catching Louis’ attention in time to see a group of men making a clearing on deck. Two men jumped up on the tables with guitars in hand. 

“C’mon, Master Gunner!” one pirate yelled as he held a worn fiddle in the air. 

Louis turned towards Gemma who had an amused smirk tugging at her lips. 

“You play?” 

“Aye,” She nodded as she stood from the table. “Time for some dancing, gentlemen?” 

Without waiting for a response, Gemma flitted towards the group and grabbed the fiddle from his hand. She hopped onto the table and began to rhythmically stomp her heel against the surface. With the fiddle tucked underneath her chin, she raised the bow and began to play. The crowd cheered along and began to dance in front of the makeshift stake, their movements languid and uncoordinated from the alcohol pulsing in their bloodstream. 

Harry stood from his chair and exaggeratedly bowed towards Louis, “May I have this dance, Master Tomlinson?”

Louis grinned harder than he thought possible as he pushed himself out of his seat. He bent his knees in a mock curtsey that he had seen his mother do more times than not. Gingerly he took Harry’s hand in his own and bowed his head. 

“Certainly, Captain.” 

Harry’s spine was impeccably straight as he mimicked the grandeur of a true noble gentleman. His chin was slightly jutted in the air and his mouth was fighting to remain in a straight line as they strutted towards the clearing. 

With one hand on Harry’s shoulder and the other firmly gripped in the captain’s hand, Louis looked up at Harry from underneath his eyelashes. Harry took a step closer and settled his free hand against Louis’ lower back. It was a tad too low to be deemed appropriate by the patriarchy, but Louis preferred it that way. 

“Watch your hand, Captain,” Louis teased. 

Harry schooled his expression into ignorant bliss, “I have no idea what you mean, Sir.” 

“Sir, is it?” Louis asked with fake astonishment as Harry began to lead them along the deck. Louis leaned onto the tips of his toes to quietly murmur, “Think I prefer, little dove.”

Harry barely faltered their steps as his eyes twinkled with unadulterated happiness, “Aye?”

“Aye,” Louis beamed. 

Louis let Harry lead them through the throng of drunkards, their dance not particularly elegant or in pace with the music. Bubbles of laughter tumbled out of Louis’ mouth throughout its entirety as Harry genuinely tried his hardest to make it a proper performance. Different crew members were cheering them on, amused and fond expressions geared towards their beloved captain. After the second song, even Liam managed to persuade Zayn to join. 

After his arms ached and legs felt as if they were going to give out, Louis pulled Harry to a halt. Harry’s chest was ballooning with each labored breath, his irises wide from excitement as they stared down into Louis’. Taking two steps back, Louis bowed his head and bit back a grin as Harry mirrored his stance. 

Harry stepped back into his space, his eyes lowering towards Louis’ mouth, “I want to give you something.” 

With his eyes locked on Harry’s tongue as it darted out to swipe against his bottom lip, Louis easily nodded along. Harry turned on his heel and stalked towards his cabins, pausing along one of the tables to swipe a bottle of rum. Louis felt giddy as he trailed behind the other man, his hands itching to touch him. His mouth watered as he thought about the way he tasted, the sugary aftertaste he left in Louis’ mouth from one kiss. 

Without much finesse, Harry hauled his door open and guided Louis inside with a hand on his back. There was a sharp clatter from the rum bottle hitting the floor and Louis had barely processed it before Harry was crowding in his space. Harry’s hands gripped his jaw as he backed Louis against the door. Louis’ hand instinctively gripped onto Harry’s waist, his tunic silky underneath Louis’ touch. 

Harry paused for a moment and when Louis minutely nodded, he brought their lips together. It was worlds apart from their first kiss from the moment their lips touched. The first kiss was tentative and impossibly gentle, as if Harry was worried Louis would break if he pressed against him too hard. The second kiss on the other hand, rivaled the tenacity behind a monsoon. Every press of Harry’s lips against Louis’ was purposeful and frantic. 

Louis mewled into Harry’s mouth as the other man raked his hands from Louis’ jaw to his lower back. Instinctively, Louis tilted his head to the side and licked against the seam of Harry’s lips as he rolled his hips forwards. A guttural moan reverberated from Harry’s throat, Louis immediately swallowing the sound.

Harry opened his mouth and licked into Louis’, their tongues wetly caressing each other. Louis raised himself onto his toes and pressed his body firmly against Harry’s, wanting to feel him along his entire body. Immediately, Harry reached down and gripped the back of Louis’ thighs, hauling him upwards. Louis whimpered into the kiss as his thighs tightly wrapped around Harry’s hips. 

“Fuck,” Harry weakly puffed against Louis’ mouth. He ducked forward and licked the plush of Louis’ bottom lip as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste. 

Louis fisted his fingers in Harry’s curls, his nails scratching along his scalp. Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head from the feeling, his wet lips slack as a pretty moan slipped out. 

“Oh god,” Louis panted as Harry ground his hips upwards, his firm cock pressing against Louis’ balls and the hilt of his shaft. 

He squeezed his thighs and pulled Harry’s mouth back on his, faint whimpers pulling out of his throat from every roll of Harry’s hips. With his hands firmly holding Louis upright, Harry stepped away from the door and walked them towards his bed. Louis dragged his lips from Harry’s and trailed a line of kisses from his jawline and towards the junction of his neck. Harry tasted salty underneath his lips as he lightly tugged on the smooth skin with his teeth. 

Harry lowered Louis onto his back against the mattress, immediately climbing on after him until he settled between Louis’ legs. Louis was panting underneath him, his vision nearing hazy as he tried to digest how Harry looked over him. He focused on the springy curl that tucked behind his right ear and the red flourish oh his rose petal lips. Louis felt himself drown in the way that Harry’s body mirrored the ethereal curves of the Caribbean waves as his emerald irises reflected the floral vibrancy of a forest. 

“I don’t deserve you, little dove,” Harry vehemently whispered. 

Louis’ brows pulled together as he gently shook his head, the pads of his fingers resting against Harry’s lips. “Don’t say that,” he murmured. 

Harry kissed his fingers, his eyelids lulling shut as he carried through with the ministrations. Louis turned his head to the side and pressed a kiss against Harry’s wrist, mentally willing his own pulse to slow. 

“What do you want?” Harry asked against Louis’ fingers. “I’ll give you anything you want.” 

“I don’t know,” Louis admitted, his cheeks tinging pink. “I’ve never…” 

Harry lowered his head and kissed Louis’ cheekbone, his lips dragging along the skin towards the shell of Louis’ ear. 

“With a man?” 

Louis carded his fingers into Harry’s hair, lightly tugging at the tresses. He rolled his head to the side as Harry’s lips pressed against his throat. Louis unintentionally bucked his hips upwards as he left Harry’s tongue lightly lick against his skin. 

“Never –” Louis’ breath caught in his throat as Harry’s cock aligned with his. “ _Fuck_. Never, um, as in…anyone.” 

Harry slowly pulled away from Louis neck so he could look at him, his eyes wide with wonder as Louis flushed underneath him. 

“You’re a virgin?” Harry quietly asked, almost as if he hadn’t heard Louis properly. 

Louis felt self-conscious underneath his gaze, his eyes darting across the room instead of into the endless green. He shrugged his shoulder as best as he could, not wanting to make a huge ordeal out of the situation. 

“Little dove,” Harry whispered as soft as a caress, attempting to pull Louis’ attention back onto him. He lightly rubbed the pad of his thumb against Louis’ bottom lip, “Look at me.” 

Hesitantly, Louis looked back with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Louis’ eyes widened at the blunt sincerity that emanated from Harry’s tone and mirroring countenance. Not trusting his voice, Louis nodded and raised his head off of a pillow. He kissed Harry, immediately deepening the kiss as he flicked his tongue against Harry’s bottom lip. Louis felt pliant underneath Harry’s steady weight, his body willing to take whatever Harry would give him. 

“I want to taste every bit of you,” Harry moaned against Louis’ mouth. 

“Please,” Louis weakly nodded as his thighs fell open. 

Harry leaned back and pulled his tunic over his head. Louis fingers immediately reached out to thumb against the laurel leaves imprinted into his skin. His mouth watered as he thought running his tongue along the indents, trailing kissing along each leaf. 

“Sit up for me.” 

Louis leaned forward and let Harry tug his tunic over his head for him, the material tossed over the side of the bed and onto the carpet. Harry shuffled back and began pressing kisses against his chest, drawing light moans from Louis with each one. Louis’ eyes rolled back as Harry scratched his nails down the length of Louis’ chest towards his hips, stopping as they hooked into his trousers. Louis kicked off his boots and bit into his bottom lip as Harry began to kiss along his hips. 

“Harry, please,” Louis whined when Harry duck his tongue below his trousers. 

Harry nodded, shuffling back so he could pull Louis’ trousers off his hips and down his legs. Louis’ cock slapped against his stomach, the head already wet with precome. Harry tugged off both of Louis’ socks, leaving him completely naked underneath Harry’s hooded gaze.

“Gorgeous,” Harry whispered against the inside of Louis’ knee, his nose lightly rubbing against the thin downy hairs. 

He pressed a kiss into the supple skin, his lips lingering until they slowly dragged towards Louis’ inner thigh. Louis’ eyes were pinched shut as Harry worshiped over his skin with his mouth and tactile fingers. Every touch ignited a fire in his bloodstream, every kiss flourishing a flame inside his pounding heart. 

“God,” Louis brokenly moaned as Harry sucked a bruise into his right hip. 

Harry had his hands bracketed on either side of Louis’ hips, his hair falling in front of his eyes as his neck arched down. Louis’ irises blew out as he watched the muscles along Harry’s shoulders flex when he kitten licked the head of Louis’ cock. A guttural moan ripped through Louis’ chest as slick heat wrapped around his cockhead. Harry’s lips stretched around his cock, a mixture of spit and precome leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

Louis threw his bicep over his face when Harry moaned around his length, his head gradually beginning to bob up and down. It was unlike any feeling Louis had ever felt. His skin felt as if it was a hotwire, constant heat pulsating through his body as Harry hallowed his cheeks with every movement. His toes curled into the soft blanket underneath him when his cockhead brushed the back of Harry’s throat. 

Harry pulled off of him with a slick pop, his pouty lips shining and flushed as he looked up at Louis. He wrapped his hand around Louis’ length and slowly jerked him off. Louis reached between his legs and thumbed at Harry’s lush bottom lip, his digit immediately being sucked into Harry’s mouth. A high pitched whinny poured out of Louis as his thighs began to twitch. 

“Harry,” he warned when he felt his balls begin to tighten. 

“I said I wanted to taste all of you,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ palm, his voice absolutely wrecked. He pulled his hand off of Louis’ cock, “Rest on your front.” 

A crease formed on Louis’ forehead, “My front?”

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked as he sat up and rested on his haunches. 

Without missing a beat, Louis nodded, “I do.” 

“On your front, little dove,” Harry coaxed, his fingers lightly pressing into Louis’ side. 

Louis rolled over and hissed as his sensitive cock brushed against the blanket. He pushed away the pillow and folded his arms underneath his head, his pulse running wild as he felt Harry push his legs open. Harry rested his hands by Louis’ hips as he leaned forwards and hovered over Louis’ back. He kissed between Louis’ shoulder blades, humming softly against the heated skin. 

“Sweeter than honeysuckle,” Harry whispered, his words soft enough that Louis wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear. 

Harry trailed the tip of his tongue down the notches of Louis’ spine, leaving a cool stripe of slick in his wake. Louis shivered underneath him, subconsciously pressing his hips into the mattress when Harry’s mouth reached the base of his spine. 

“Bet you even taste like honey here,” Harry accentuated by moving his hands to palm Louis’ arse. 

Louis’ eyes widened at the implication, “You – You’re gonna –”

In favor of verbally answering Louis’ question, Harry pulled his cheeks apart and flattened his tongue against Louis’ hole. He licked over Louis’ entrance, eliciting a string of moans from Louis. 

“Feel good?” Harry asked before he circled his tongue around the ring of muscle. 

Louis nodded against his forearm, tears pricking his eyes, “ _God_ , yes.” 

Harry made a pleased noise and then began tonguing Louis in earnest. He alternated between quick flicks of his tongue to flattening his tongue and licking long stripes. With his fingers roughly digging into the thick muscle of Louis’ arse, Harry pulled Louis’ hips back against his face. The room was filtered with the sounds of Louis’ broken whimpers and the crude sound of Harry licking him out. 

Louis had gone lax underneath Harry’s grip, his thighs parted as wide as possible to give Harry more access to his hole. His cock was impossible hard as it chaffed against the bed and Louis knew that he was close to coming. Harry stiffened his tongue and lightly prodded the muscle with the tip.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis canted as his balls tightened and a newfound heat built in the pit of his gut. 

“Come on,” Harry groaned, his voice hoarse and crackled. 

He ducked back down and prodded his tongue harder, finally slipping past Louis’ rim. The sensation set Louis’ body into a frenzy. With his tears pent up in his eyes, Louis’ jaw slacked and he came. His cock pulsated underneath him as a burning heat surged though his entire body. Louis was vaguely aware of Harry tonguing him through it, his mind coated in a fog. 

Harry slowly pulled away from Louis’ spent body, his hands moving to caress Louis’ soft hips. Louis did his best to catch his breath, his breath wet against his arm as he puffed out each exhale. He gingerly rolled onto his back and immediately reached out for Harry. 

“Fuck,” Harry almost painfully whimpered as he thumbed the come off of Louis’ abdomen. Louis watched as Harry stuck the digit past his lips and sucked it into his mouth. He moaned around the pad of his finger and pulled it out to say, “Sweetest honey I have ever had.” 

“Oh my god,” Louis flushed, covering his face with his hands. “You are _obscene_.”

“Aye,” Harry easily agreed with an impish tone. 

“I wonder if you taste like honey,” Louis wondered aloud, pulling a breathless laugh from Harry. 

Harry squeezed his hip, “You can find out another time, little dove.”

“You don’t want to come?” Louis pulled his arm away to glimpse at Harry with a confusion lacing his expression. 

Harry’ cheeks turned crimson as he looked down at his trousers, “Well, um, I already did.” 

Louis pushed himself onto his forearms as he looked at Harry with open wonderment, “That made you come?” 

“Have I mentioned I love the taste of honey?” Harry joked, his dimple appearing alongside his jaunted grin. 

Louis exaggeratedly groaned and promptly pushed him off of the bed.

**** 

When Louis crept out of the Harry’s cabins, the deck was nearly empty. A few unconscious crew members were strewn across the disheveled tables, emptied bottles still clutched in their hands as snores wracked their bodies. Louis exhaled in relief, not having wanted to create a scene from leaving Harry’s cabin significantly more unkempt than from when he entered. 

Louis made his way towards the crew’s cabins, careful to keep his steps light as he descended the stairs. There was a collective sound of deep breathing that reverberated from inside the space. He made it to his hammock, sighing when he saw Steve already asleep, his face lax of any tension. A tinge of guiltiness burrowed in Louis’ stomach at the realization that he was so focused on Harry, he didn’t think to make sure Steve was alright during the raid. 

“Ye didn’t honestly think you’d be able to waltz back ‘ere without me noticing, did you?” 

“Fucking hell!” Louis hissed as he whipped around to see Niall watching him expectantly. 

He was unceremoniously sat on the floor across from Louis’ bunk with a pitcher of ale between his parted legs. Once his heartrate slowed to an acceptable rate, Louis sat next Niall, wordlessly holding his hand out to accept the ale. 

“Well…Don’t make me beg,” Niall sighed as he nudged Louis in the shoulder. “What ‘appened?” 

“He, um,” Louis blushed at the thought of Harry’s lips against his body. “We kissed…. And, erm, some other stuff.” 

Niall cocked his eyebrow, “Never go into the sex industry, mate. You’re shit at even just talkin’ about it.” 

Louis swatted him in the chest and took a sip of ale, the liquid a bit too warm for Louis’ liking. He shrugged, “I’m new to this, give me a break.” 

“What was it like?” Niall asked, stepping over any boundary that might have remained between them. “Rough? Gentle? Literally give me any detail and I’d be sorted.” 

“Why would you want to know details?!” Louis incredulously asked, making the conscious effort not to be too loud. 

Niall groaned, evidently not as concerned about being loud, “I haven’ had a lass on me cock in about two fortnights.” 

“I’ve never had a lass on my cock,” Louis’ nose scrunched. “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

An impish glint twinkled in Niall’s eyes and Louis already knew that he would be obligated to punch Niall for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. 

“Aye, but you ‘ave had a captain.” 

A sharp laugh cackled from across them, Louis immediately following the sound. Steve was partially sat upwards, his head leaning on his hand as he stared back at the two men. His mouth was stretched into an obnoxious grin that had Louis smacking his own head against the banister behind him. 

“Don’t mind me,” Steve smirked as he gestured for Louis to continue.   
“That is _not_ what happened,” Louis pitifully groaned as both Niall and Steve sniggered at him. 

“Oi, so you were on the receiving bit,” Niall waggled his eyebrows. He shrugged, “Can’t say I’m not surprised.” 

“Oh my god,” Louis covered his face with his hands. “We are not talking about this.” 

“I’ve always wondered what that felt like?” Niall sincerely said, his brows slightly furrowed together. 

“Stop.” 

“Can’t imagine it would be all that comfortable.” 

“Niall, shut up.”

“But, Liam seems to love it so what do I –”

“Oi! I heard that!” Liam called from across the room. 

Louis gaped, “Is everyone bloody awake on this sodding ship?” 

There was a collective group of, “Ayes,” tossed back at him. 

“I’m going to murder you,” Louis gritted through his teeth as he glared at Niall. 

Niall stood up, his legs slightly wobbling, “Can you at least wait until after La Désirade?” 

“No.” 

“Good lad,” Niall chirped, patting Louis on the top of his head. “See you in the morning, landlubber.”

“Bloody pirate,” Louis huffed under his breath. 

****

The next morning, Louis woke up with a small roll of parchment against his chest. He blearily wiped the sleep from his eyes and unraveled the scroll. 

**_Little dove, come to my cabin when you wake up. – Treacle x_ **

Louis stared at the note with a warm grin stretching over his face. He lightly thumbed the black ink before pocketing the note and pushing himself off of his hammock. There was a light bounce in his step as he made his way towards the deck. The sun was already climbing the horizon, a telltale sign that Louis had managed to sleep in for the first time since he got on the ship. 

He stopped outside of Harry’s door and lightly knocked against the wood. A flurry of butterflies set loose in his stomach from the prospect of being alone with Harry, the sentiment more embarrassing than Louis would prefer. 

“Aye,” Harry called out. 

Louis pushed the door open and halted halfway through the entrance. 

“Oh.” 

Gemma cocked her hip against the table, “Don’t look so disappointed that I’m here, Tomlinson.” 

“Right,” Louis dumbly said as he closed the door behind him. He took a few steps into the room and clasped his hands behind his back, “Apologies.” 

Harry was sat at the table, his eyes filled with warmth as he privately smiled at Louis. He gestured towards the chair to his right and tilted his head to the side, indicating that Louis should take a seat. Louis walked past Gemma and slid the chair out, immediately setting against the plush backing. 

“Gemma had told me of your arrangement the night it was made,” Harry began as his eyes flitted from his sister and back to Louis. 

“Aye,” Gemma pulled out the chair on Harry’s other side and took a seat. “And you still have your end of the bargain to hold up, Tomlinson.” 

“You mean my father,” Louis cocked his brow. 

Harry nodded, “Aye.” 

“You said he sent you letters of his whereabouts when he made port,” Gemma stated, her tone almost accusatory as she stared at him. 

“He does,” Louis shrugged. “Or, well, he did.” 

“Did?” Gemma incredulously asked. 

“I hardly think he still sends letters now that I’m not with my family,” Louis narrowed his eyes. He folded his arms over his chest, “As far as he’s concerned, I’m dead.” 

Harry’s brows furrowed together, “Why would he think that?” 

Louis glanced at him unimpressed, “Honestly?” 

Harry shrugged, “How would he even know you’re here?”

“When a family member of the navy dies, the family contacts their governor. Word passes along and eventually winds up to the respected party,” Louis sighed. There was a frown tugging at his mouth as he resolutely stared at the table in front of him, “My mother probably contacted our governor the morning after Kensington was sacked.” 

“I didn’t know that,” Harry murmured. 

“Yeah, well,” Louis shrugged.

“When was the last letter you received?” Gemma asked, her tone a tinge less abrasive than before. 

Louis squinted his eyes in concentration as he mentally counted back, “About a month before I was brought here.” 

“Did he say where he was going?” Harry carefully pressed. 

“West Caicos,” Louis nodded.

Harry frowned as he looked at Gemma, “What would he want that’s at Caicos?” 

“I thought it was colonized by the French,” Gemma squinted, looking just as confused. 

“It is,” Louis piped. He leaned forward and rested his forearms against the table, “The royal navy want to occupy the west region. Father said they’ve been drawing up proposals.” 

“What’s on the land?” Harry asked as he raked his fingers through his hair. 

“Um,” Louis paused for a moment, his eyes trailing the flex of Harry’s arm. He shook his head and pointedly avoided Gemma’s knowing smirk, “Sea salt. They want to export it from the island.” 

“How long did he plan on staying there?” Gemma asked. 

“I – I don’t remember,” Louis stuttered underneath her intense gaze. “It was in the letters, but I didn’t pay it much mind.” 

Gemma groaned as she rolled her neck, her posture radiating annoyance which only kindled irritation inside of Louis. 

“Look,” Louis spat, his sharp tone surprising both pirates at the table, “I gave you more than you had before so you could at least pretend to be a little grateful.” 

Gemma’s eyes widened as she stared back at Louis in shock, her lips slightly parted as she released an exhale. 

Harry cleared his throat, “Gemma, check on our heading. We shouldn’t be far off.” 

Gemma stood from the table, her eyes drifting towards Louis before she curtly nodded and left the cabin. Louis sighed and lolled his head forwards, his hands cradling his face as he deeply breathed. He heard Harry’ chair squeak as it scrapped against the floorboards, not bothering to move as Harry’s hands lightly settled on his shoulders. 

“Alright?” Harry quietly asked. 

Louis barely nodded. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just –” Louis cut off, dropping his hands as Harry began to rub his shoulders. “I’m already on edge whenever I talk about him, which I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.” 

Harry quietly hummed in agreement, his thumbs soothingly pressing into Louis’ skin. 

Louis sighed and lolled his head backward, cushioning himself against Harry’s abdomen, “Gemma acting like _that_ and just…I don’t know, making me feel useless? It – Well, it just makes it worse.” His volume drooped when he tacked on, “I already know I’m not much use, I don’t need her to point it out.” 

Harry’s hands faltered their ministrations, slipping from Louis’ shoulders. He gripped the back of Louis’ chair and pulled it backwards, eliciting a surprised squawk from Louis. Before he could fully process it, Harry was straddling his leg over Louis’ thighs and settled himself on his lap. Their chests brushed as Harry gently cupped his jaw, his eyes intent as they searched Louis’. 

“Why do you say that?” Harry quietly asked. 

“It’s true,” Louis easily answered. He circled his arms around Harry’s waist, his fingers lightly caressing his lower back, “I’m nothing like my father, I was never taught the things a commodore’s son should have been taught. How to draw swords or sail or even lead...I never got that from him.” Louis shrugged, “While other boys were being taught how to use a sword, I was helping teach my younger sister how to read.” 

“You’re right, you are nothing like your father,” Harry definitively said. His eyes softened as he continued, “You are so much better than him.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Louis mumbled, his eyes darting away from Harry’s face and towards the rose locket still hooked around his neck. 

“You think you’re useless?” Harry asked, pausing as Louis minutely nodded. He shook his head, “I would say about six people on this ship have the ability to read, let alone write. Don’t you reckon it’s important for a captain to have literate members of their crew? Not just brute strength?” 

“Knowing how to read and write is not that difficult of a trade to know,” Louis rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not?” Harry challenged as his head cocked towards the side. “How about you tell that to at least twenty of those men who I have tried to mentor, but couldn’t grasp the mechanics.” 

“Maybe you’re just a poor tutor,” Louis teased, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. 

Harry shook his head, “Maybe you need to admit that you have talents, they’re just different than your father’s.” 

“Maybe,” Louis mumbled under his breath. 

“We’re going to need those letters, little dove,” Harry murmured, his hands tilting Louis’ jaw upwards. 

“They’re back in Kensington.” Louis dramatically sighed, “I didn’t exactly have time to pack before you started blowing holes in my house.”

“I know.” 

Louis’ brows furrowed together, “You mean to back to there?” 

“If you will retrieve the letters, aye,” Harry nodded. 

“No,” Louis shook his head, images of his mother and siblings filtering through his mind. He gritted out, “No one is getting close to that house. I might be here, but that is still my _home_.” 

“What if it was only you and I?” Harry tried. 

Louis narrowed his eyes, “What about the crew?” 

“I’ll command them to stay on the ship,” Harry shrugged. He trailed his fingers down towards the collar of Louis’ tunic, lightly tugging on the material, “Leave Malik in charge.”

“Just to fetch the letters?” Louis weakly asked. 

Harry nodded, “Just the letters then we will leave.” 

Louis mulled over the idea. The possibility of seeing his family again was tempting, more than that, it was everything that had played throughout his dreams. But, on the other hand, he knew that he would have to leave them. He wasn’t sure if it was better to assure them that he was alive and chasing down his father, or for them to think he was dead and move forward with their lives. When the two options were separated, Louis knew what was right thing for him to do as a son and brother. 

With his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, Louis decided that there wouldn’t be any rest for his family if they thought him to be dead. They had to know the truth and he had to tell them. 

Louis looked at Harry and nodded, pulling a relieved sigh from the other man.

“If anyone hurts my family, I swear to god, I will kill them,” Louis seriously said, surprising himself at the legitimacy of the statement. 

“I won’t let anyone hurt them,” Harry reassured Louis, dipping his neck to press his lips against Louis’ forehead. His lips lingered for a moment before he pulled back and whispered, “I promise.” 

Louis tilted his head back and pursed his lips, his fingers lightly pulling Harry flush against him. Harry grinned as he ducked down and kissed Louis properly, their lips perfectly slotting together. A content sigh slipped from Louis’ mouth and into Harry’s as the other man nipped at his bottom lip. Harry took advantage of his parted lips and dipped his tongue into Louis’ mouth. 

“Harry, we – Oh fuck, no!” 

_CRASH_

Louis quickly pulled away from Harry’s mouth to see Gemma with her hands covering her face, a broken bottle of wine shattered against the ground. 

“I have made it through twenty-four years without seeing you fuck anyone,” Gemma angrily sputtered out. “And I am _not_ about to break that streak now.” 

Harry angrily huffed, “That’s why you bloody knock on the door, Gemma!” 

“I was just trying to apologize to Tomlinson for being a twat and this is what I get!” 

“Really?” Louis perked up. 

“Possibly,” Gemma muttered.

“You can uncover your eyes,” Harry begrudgingly said. 

Slowly, Gemma lowered her hands, her eyes suspiciously narrowing as she looked at them. 

“Well,” Harry drawled out as he rolled his fingers through the air, gesturing for her to get on with it. 

“Get off him,” Gemma snapped. She folded her arms over her chest, “This is already hard enough without having to see you draped on ‘im like a bloody starfish.” 

“No,” Harry easily laughed as he shook his head. “These are my quarters, this is my – Uh, Louis, and I’ll sit where I like.” 

Louis tried to bite back his beam, his cheeks tinged red from both embarrassment and smugness. 

“Fine,” Gemma gritted out, her eyes narrowed to small slits. She directed her attention towards Louis, “I’m sorry for being a twat.” 

“It’s alright,” Louis nodded. “Apology accepted.” 

“What’s with the wine?” Harry quirked his eyebrow as he looked at the broken bottle. 

“Right, well, if Tomlinson didn’t accept my apology I was going to bribe ‘im with wine.” 

“It would have worked, too,” Louis grinned. “Well, if you hadn’t have gone and smashed it.”

“It’s your own fault!” Gemma incredulously accused as he pointed between Harry and Louis. “If two weren’t all…. Doing _that_ , I wouldn’t have dropped it.” 

“Pity,” Harry tusked. 

 

“Also, we’re about to anchor.” 

“Aye,” Harry nodded, “I’ll be right out. Send Perry to mop up the mess.” 

Gemma nodded and shut the door behind her. 

“Ready for your first bonfire night?” Harry excitedly asked, his fingers toying with the buttons of Louis’ vest. 

Louis eagerly nodded, Harry’s own excitement proving to be infectious, “Aye.” 

Harry kissed him, humming happily as their lips lightly pressed together. He pulled away first and thumbed at Louis’ bottom lip, his eyes twinkling with something purer than the sun itself. The warmth that radiated from Harry was unparalleled to anything that Louis had experienced before. It was a feeling that Louis doubted that he would ever get used to, never wanting to even if he had a choice. 

“Sweet as tupelo honey,” Harry affectionately murmured as he ducked down for another kiss. 

****

Louis decided that La Désirade was his favorite place that he had ever been. Not that he had gone to many places during his life, far from it. Still, the island with powdery white sand and lush greenery, was his favorite. 

Different sets of row boats rotated between the ship and the island, each one taking a group of the crew to shore. Louis immediately kicked off his boots and sunk his feet into the wet sand where the waves kissed the shoreline. He was vaguely aware of barrels of ale and rum being unloaded towards his left, but his eyes were settles on the gentle swell of the ocean as is circled his feet. 

“Tomlinson!” 

Louis turned towards his right and cackled as he saw Niall attempting to roll his own barrel towards a clearing in the sand. He shook his head and jogged over to help the struggling pirate. 

“Not strong enough, Neil?” Louis taunted as he helped push the large barrel. 

“It’s the bloody twattering sand,” Niall gritted between his teeth. 

“Right,” Louis huffed out. 

With a bit of an effort, they managed to get the barrel towards the clearing. Other crew members had begun to pile up wood in the center, grins beaming from their faces as they attempted to stack the pyre as tall as possible. Louis sat down in the sand watched as different jolly boats continued to bring more crew members. 

As the different men filtered around the fire, their bodies shuffled close together as the sun began to set. Friendly banter filled the air as Liam started to kindle the fire and Louis found himself immersed in it all. He privately grinned, remembering his mother’s words to him as she worried that he would end up alone. As his eyes found Harry climbing out of the last boat, he realized that he was the farthest thing from being alone. He _had_ found his new family. 

“Oi! Oi!” Louis shouted with his hands cusped around his mouth. “Aoki!” 

Steve’s brow furrowed as he scanned through the crowd, a grin stretching his mouth when he found Louis and Niall. He stalked over with two unopened bottled of rum, unceremoniously dropping one in Louis’ lap when he was close enough. 

“Thank you, sir,” Louis cheered, clinking the neck of their bottles together. 

Niall slung his arm around Louis’ shoulder, pulling him closer towards his chest as he shouted, “Lubber’s first bonfire night!” 

The gathering of pirates all raised their bottles and mugs, shouting in cheers towards their two newest recruits. Louis and Steve were both beaming underneath the attention, their own bottles raised towards the sky. 

“You’ve grown to love it, ‘aven’t you?” Niall asked once conversations broke out amongst the different men. 

Louis looked around at the comradery that held the crew together, love and respect palpable in the air as the fire began to bellow in the periwinkle sky. 

“I have,” Louis honestly said. He glanced between Steve and Niall, “Is that completely fucked?” 

Steve shook his head, his peaceful countenance settling Louis’ erratic heartrate, “I don’t think so. Maybe this is what we were meant to be doing all along.”

“ _Or_ we’ve finally tricked you into thinking it’s a good life,” Niall winked, taking a heavy swig of ale. 

Louis grinned as he nodded along, “That’s probably it.” 

The fire consumed all of the piled wood and Louis watched as embers sparked and eventually dissipated into the night sky. He shrugged off his vest and lad back on the material as if it was a pillow, his eyes shut as he listened to blips of conversations that reached him. Louis’ mind was slightly hazy from the heat and the rum, finding it oddly comforting as he laid still. 

“Has he fallen asleep?” 

“Who’s to say,” Niall unhelpfully slurred in response. 

Louis blinked open his eyes to see Harry looming over him, a fond expression softening his features as Louis looked back at him.

“Are you just going to stand there all night, Captain, or will you be joining me?” Louis asked. 

Harry huffed out a laugh as he sat down next to Louis. He laid on his back, the side of his body flush against Louis’. Louis folded his hands over his stomach and he lolled his head to the side, peering at Harry’s profile. 

“What do you think?” Harry asked, tilting his head to mirror Louis. 

“It’s beautiful,” Louis murmured, his eyes locked on Harry. 

“I’ve said it before,” Harry quietly began, “But, I’m happy you’re here.” 

“Me too,” Louis whispered. 

“With me,” Harry tacked on, his voice nearly unintelligible against the rowdy drew around them. 

Louis nodded, reaching out to cup Harry’s cheek, “Me too.” 

“I’m ‘appy, too. Y’know, incase either of you were wondering.” 

Louis groaned as he turned his head to look at Niall. He was unabashedly watching the two of them, grinning around the lip of Louis’ rum bottle. Louis fisted a handful of sand and unceremoniously chucked it at him. Niall sputtered out a surprised laugh, promptly spitting rum over his front. 

“Alright!” He defensively said as he clambered to his feet. “A lad can take a hint!” 

He stalked off towards a different group, easily slipping into their conversation with his jovial grandeur. 

“Can we go somewhere in the morning?” Harry asked, bringing Louis’ attention back to him. “I want to show you something.” 

Louis nodded, “Of course, Treacle.”

Harry beamed, immediately attempting to school his expression, but failing miserably. Louis bit back a matching grin and shut his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Harry lying next to him. His breathing began to even out, the crew’s laughter turning into a lullaby as exhaustion slowly pulled him under. He was teetering into sleep when he felt Harry intertwine their fingers. 

_“Sweet dreams, little dove.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big update today for H's birthday. May his day hold endless booze and a naked spouse. 
> 
> \- Lis xx

Louis woke up to the sensation of fingertips dancing along the knots of his spine. A sleepy hum reverberated from his throat as he nuzzled his head forward, the smell of rose oil immediately clouding his senses. Sleepily, he blinked his eyes open, a soft smile playing at his lips when he realized his head was nestled into the crook of Harry’s neck. 

Sometime during the night, Harry’s arm had wound its way around Louis’ waist, holding him close. Louis was cuddled into Harry’s side, his upper body heavily rested on Harry’s chest while his ankles were wrapped around Harry’s calves. Gently, Louis slipped his fingers underneath Harry’s tunic, itching to feel his warm skin underneath his fingertips. 

“Good morning,” Harry whispered, his voice sounding like gravel dipped in the sweetest syrup. 

“Morning,” Louis answered just as quietly. 

He scooted impossibly closer, his lips lightly pressing into Harry’s neck. There was a foreign need that pulsated through his being, something that Louis had never felt towards anyone else. He needed to feel Harry close him, wanted to map out his sharp edges and soft curves with his fingers and mouth. Harry lethargically tilted his head, granting Louis better access to his neck as well as giving him the impression that they were on the same page. 

“You’re affectionate in the morning,” Harry made a pleased sound, his fingers continuously caressing Louis’ lower back. 

A flush pinched Louis’ cheeks, “Do you mind?” 

Harry minutely shook his head, “S’a good surprise.” 

Louis smiled against Harry’s neck, pressing another kiss into his supple skin, “Good.” 

Louis could feel Harry’s skin rumble against his lips when murmured, “Up for an adventure?” 

“Would I have to move?” 

“Aye.”

“Would you carry me?” 

“No.”

Louis made an affronted noise from the back of his throat, “And why not?” 

Harry grinned, his fingers lightly pinching Louis’ skin, “Because you are fully capable to walk.” 

“And here I thought,” Louis dramatically sighed as he rolled away, “That you fancied me.” 

Harry was quick to move over him, his weight lightly resting on Louis’ as he brought a hand to cup Louis’ jaw. “What gave you that impression?” Harry asked with a dimpled smirk. 

“You threatened to cut off a man’s hand if he touched me again,” Louis deadpanned. 

“Would have done that for any member of my crew.” 

“You told me I taste like honey,” Louis raked his fingers down Harry’s back. 

Harry shrugged, “I don’t recall making that comment.” 

Louis grinned, as he cocked his knee upwards, pressing himself against Harry’s groin, “You’re hard for me.” 

Harry breathlessly laughed as he slightly ground his hips down, “It’s the morning.” 

“If you don’t fancy me…” Louis faux yawned, twisting his body so he could roll onto his stomach, folding his arms under his head, “Then you won’t mind if I go back to sleep and leave you to take care of that on your own.” 

Harry pressed his nose against the nape of Louis’ neck, his hips grinding down against Louis’ arse. He shook his head as a faint moan slipped from his mouth and onto Louis’ skin. Louis pressed his arse back into the feeling of Harry’s length, feeling himself begin to get hard in his trousers. 

“Fine,” Harry weakly said as he continued to roll his hips. 

“Say it,” Louis tilted his head to look at Harry over his shoulder. 

Harry gripped his chin and kissed him, pulling away to murmur, “I fancy you.” 

Louis grinned into the next kiss as his heart palpitated in his chest. 

“Say it back,” Harry quietly said, his body angled onto his side. He kept one leg wrapped around Louis’ waist while the other was pressed against the sand. 

Louis pressed the pad of his thumb against Harry’s bottom lip, “I fancy you.”

Harry kissed Louis’ cheekbone, pulling away to rest his forehead against Louis’ temple. He rubbed his nose against Louis’ hairline, inhaling deeply. 

“I need to get my hands on you.” 

Louis shakily huffed out a laugh, “Your hands _are_ on me.” 

“You know what I mean,” Harry weakly sighed, his body slightly trembling against Louis’. “Can we go now?” 

“Where are we going?” 

“Somewhere special to me.” 

Louis nodded and pressed an urgent kiss against Harry’s lips, “Let’s go.” 

Harry beamed back at him, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled back and moved to get to his feet. Louis sat upwards, his eyes trailing the horizon as the sun began to peek over the endless stretch if the ocean. The purple sky bled hues of pink and orange, warmth starting to radiate on the island. Louis glanced around them, relieved to see the slew of pirates still passed out in the sand. 

“Little dove?” 

Louis tore his eyes away and took Harry’s outreached hand. Harry hauled him to his feet, his fingers immediately pressing into Louis’ hips once he was upright. He bowed his head and pecked Louis’ forehead as he lowered a hand to intertwine their fingers. Louis squeezed his hand reassuringly, attempting to convey Harry that he was just as desperate for his touch. 

Harry stepped towards the vegetation that lined the beach, his hand lightly pulling Louis along. The two men carefully treaded around the sleeping pirates, mindful to be quiet as they snuck away. Nestled between tall grasses and curved palm trees, was a dirt path. Harry led them, easily winding his way with the island from an ease that came from muscle memory. The dirt was cold against the soles of Louis’ feet, but not nearly unbearable as they walked. 

Island birds sang with intricate melodies as the island brush covered them. Louis’ eyes were somewhere lost between the slope of Harry’s spine and the wildflowers that blossomed around them. Periwinkle and fuchsia painted the landscape with soft petals and open faces. Everything was full of lush life and pure vibrancy, pulling emotions out of Louis that he didn’t know existed. 

“This is incredible,” Louis wondered aloud. 

Harry glimpse over his shoulder, a dimple pressed into his cheek, “Just wait, little dove.” 

As the sun began to spill through the layers of leaves, the grasses kissed the lip of a cave. Louis faltered in his step, eyes wide as Harry led him towards the mouth of the structure. Harry peeked at Louis with a trill of giddiness, his mouth jaunted unevenly as he ushered Louis forward. 

“Oh my god,” Louis gaped when they stepped into the cave. 

Harry squeezed his hand, “I know.” 

The mouth of the cave was deceptively small in comparison to what it held. Soft moss dipped into the heart of the cave, pulling them underneath the ground. Rosy sedimentary rocks climbed above their heads to make the roof of the cave. As rays from the sun seeped through the mouth of the cavern, tints of iridescent opal glimmered in response.

Louis meandered into the grotto, the spongy moss padding his feet with each step. He lightly brushed his fingers against the flowery vegetation that managed to cover the cave floor and climb the length of the walls. The faint sound of trickling water pinged inside the structure, every echo reverberating directly into Louis’ heart. Disbelief clouded every one of his senses as he saw the moss’ lining dip into pool of cerulean water. 

“This can’t be real,” Louis murmured, carefully turning on his heel to see Harry watching him with slight anxiousness as he tugged on his bottom lip with his forefingers.

Louis closed the space between them, an innate need to be closer to Harry steadily pumping through his bloodstream. He lightly brushed Harry’s fingers away and cased his jaw with his slighter hands. Harry let his hands fall towards Louis’ hips, fingertips warm as they pressed into his tunic. Somehow, his irises were impossibly brighter as they bore into Louis, the grotto pulling out the golden flecks that speckled the emerald pigment. 

“Are you alright?” Louis whispered, the cavern feeling too precious for brash sounds.

Harry nodded and lowered his head to lightly kiss Louis’ lips. Louis’ eyes lolled shut, letting himself drown into the feeling of Harry’s plush mouth against his. His sweetened lips tasted as if they were dipped in the finest treacle and Louis couldn’t fathom ever tiring of drinking him in. 

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” Harry murmured against Louis’ mouth. 

“Never?” 

“Never.” 

Louis opened his eyes and leaned back a fraction of an inch, “Why me?” 

Harry blinked, expression earnest as he tilted his head to the side, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

Louis supposed, that for once, it was. 

“Follow me,” Harry quietly said, stepping backwards towards the lip of the water. 

He didn’t need any convincing to let Harry pull him towards the pool. As they stepped to the edge, Louis carefully dipped his toes in the water, his mouth slightly popping open as he felt how warm it was. Harry let go of Louis’ hips, his fingers toying with the hem of his tunic. 

“Can you swim?” 

Louis pulled his eyes away from the clear pool, mesmerized by the depth of the rocks as they cradled the water. 

“Aye,” he answered, his lips slightly quirking into a smirk as he pulled his own tunic over his head. 

Harry’s grin matched his as he pulled the material off his upper body, letting it fall onto the moss next to Louis’. Louis tried not to let his fingers shake as he pulled off his trousers, his eyes locked on Harry’s as he kicked them off his ankles. With his breath lodged in his throat, Louis watched Harry remove his trousers. His thighs were the prettiest ivory that Louis had ever seen, a light dusting of downy hair covering the muscles. And then there was his heavy cock that hung between his legs, Louis thought that was quite pretty too. 

“You’re beautiful,” Louis exhaled, the statement surprising himself as his tumbled out. 

It seemed to shock Harry too, his feet slightly stumbling as if Louis’ words had physically taken him aback. His lips were parted as he exhaled a shaky breath. Louis could see the way a blush crept its way from Harry’s chest until it tinged the apples of his cheeks a buttery crimson pigment. 

“Oh, um,” Harry stuttered out, appearing younger and hopelessly boyish as he worked out, “Thank you.”

Even though Louis was younger than Harry, there were times where he felt as if they were on the same leveled playing field. Both sifting through feelings that came from a place of not just lust, but genuine adoration for each other. Louis didn’t need Harry to verbalize that he hadn’t been in this position before, he could just _feel_ it when he looked at him. 

Louis turned from Harry and kneeled down he could slide his way into the pool, the water immediately licking the layer of sweat that covered his skin. He held his breath and dunked his head underneath the surface, popping up from beneath the surface a moment later. Harry still stood at the edge, almost still in a shell of shock that Louis was in his sanctuary. 

Needing to snap Harry out of it, Louis sucked in a mouth full of water and then spit it out towards Harry’s shin as if he was a fountain. Harry squawked and instinctively jumped back, a large grin smacked on his face. Louis impishly smirked and pushed himself away from the lip of the pool, treading the water with ease. 

“Are you going to do something about it or stand there all day, Captain?” 

“Have I ever mentioned that you’re a nuisance in my life, Tomlinson?” 

Louis guffawed, kicking his foot out to splash more water on Harry. With an incredulous expression, Harry jumped into the water with his knees curled towards his chest. Effectively, the splash from his jump completely covered Louis. Harry popped up out of the water a few feet away, his eyes bright as he cackled out a laugh at Louis’ grimace. 

“You look like a put out puppy,” Harry grinned, his legs kicking to keep him afloat. 

“You just look like a twat,” Louis spat back without any actual malice in his voice. 

Harry rolled his eyes and floated on his back, “You’ve been spending too much time with, Horan.” 

“Jealous?” Louis teased, his eyes locked on the curve of Harry’s throat. 

Harry flailed his left hand, splashing Louis in lieu of a real answer. 

Louis beamed, “You are!” 

“Am not,” Harry quickly deflected, the pink tinge of his eyes betraying him. 

“Admit it,” Louis pushed, swimming towards the lip of the pool. He rested his forearms against the moss to keep himself afloat, already growing tired of treading. 

Harry peeked an eye open, “I don’t do jealousy.” 

“Oh really?” Louis taunted, purposefully trailing his fingers down his chest. “Then you won’t mind if I tell you that I kissed him last fortnight.” 

Louis cackled as Harry immediately turned over, nearly drowning himself as he coughed on a mouthful of water. He spat out the water, his eyes immediately narrowing on Louis as he swam over. Snaking his forearms between Louis’, Harry pulled himself upwards so he was hovering over Louis. His biceps flexed as he held himself, his weight barely pressing into Louis’ chest. 

“You didn’t,” Harry lowly said. 

“Thought you didn’t do jealousy?” Louis challenged, tilting his head back as his eyes darted between Harry’s and his lips. 

“I don’t.” 

“What do you call this?” 

Harry groaned, frustration emanating from him, “Say you didn’t kiss him, Louis.” 

“Admit you wouldn’t want me to, Harry.” 

“I – I,” Harry stuttered, a hot breath puffing from his lips and onto Louis’ cheek. 

“Because,” Louis murmured, nosing against Harry’s cheek, “I know I wouldn’t want you to be kissing other men.” 

“You wouldn’t?” Harry asked, voice just as quiet. 

“No, I’d get jealous.”

There was a beat of silence between them before Harry admitted, “Me too.” 

Louis kissed Harry’s cheek, “Was that so hard?” 

Harry minutely nodded, “This is new for me.” 

“Me too,” Louis easily said. 

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing,” Harry sighed, lightly pressing his lips against the tip of Louis’ nose. “I don’t want to ruin it.” 

“You won’t.” 

Harry pulled back and lowered himself into the water, submerging his head and then bobbing back out. Louis’ heart was thrumming in his chest as Harry swam by him, his skin barely brushing Louis’ bicep as he pulled himself out of the water. Louis’ lips parted as he watched water droplets cling to Harry’s thighs, his skin glistening as if he was a polished diamond. 

“Come here, little dove.” 

Louis turned around to see Harry lying on his back, his head cushioned against his tunic. Flattening his hands against the ground, Louis pulled himself out of the water. He crawled over towards Harry, slotting his body against the other man. 

“Can I touch them?” Louis softly asked, his fingers hovering over the swallows tattooed on Harry’s chest. 

Harry nodded, his eyes shutting as he wrapped an arm around Louis’ waist. 

Hesitantly, Louis traced the pad of his index finger along the wing of the left bird. The skin was barely raised, a tell sign that Harry has the tattoos for an extended time. He trailed the curve of its stomach, eliciting a soft sigh from Harry’s lips. Up close, Louis could tell the slight differences between the birds, from the slight curve of their eyes and the size alone. Gaining a tad of confidence, Louis pressed a kiss into the right bird, his lips gentle against the darkened skin. 

“They’re different,” Louis commented, as he moved to trace the right bird. 

“Because they’re not supposed to be mirrors, they’re soulmates,” Harry’s chest rumbled as he spoke. “Two separate birds bound to find each other.”

“Soulmates?” 

“Aye.”

Louis nodded with a slight hum of understanding, “You believe in soulmates?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“Are we speaking in Plato’s terms?” Louis asked, his nose slightly scrunching as he rested his chin against Harry’s pec. 

Harry tilted his head from side to side, fingers lightly running along Louis’ bare spine, “We’re speaking in whatever terms you believe in.” 

“Well,” Louis started, pausing a moment to gather his thoughts. “I don’t believe we were once joined to another person and then split in half. That theory never sat well with me,” he grimaced at the idea. “I _do_ think that we each have someone who we feel tied to by some form of unexplainable connection.” 

“Do you reckon you would know your soulmate if you met them?” Harry asked, his timbre low as if he was a lullaby lulling Louis to sleep. 

“I reckon,” Louis whispered, his eyes trained on the sharp jut of Harry’s jaw and the shadow casted from his eyelashes, “Maybe you might not immediately recognize them, but eventually you will.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers pausing their ministrations as he looked at Louis. There was something laid in his countenance that made Louis feel as if he was staring directly into the sun. Except, it wasn’t necessarily blinding to him. That wasn’t it at all. He felt the sun because he felt something warm burrow itself inside his chest, something so pure that it threatened to saturate every ounce of his being. It was a radiance that hugged every curve and corner of his palpitating heart. 

“Kiss me,” Louis heard himself murmur. 

With a gentle smile that spread from one end of his mouth to the other, Harry slid himself out from under Louis. Gingerly, Louis rolled onto his back, his thighs automatically parting as Harry slotted himself between them. He rested his forearm by Louis’ head and brought the other hand to rest over Louis’ heart. 

Harry glimpsed at where his hand pressed over Louis’ chest, “Your heart’s racing.” 

Heat flushed Louis’ cheeks as he weakly nodded, “Aye.” 

Almost painfully slow, Harry pressed his lips over Louis’ heart. 

“ _Christ_ ” Louis whimpered. 

Harry raised his head and dove forward to kiss Louis, immediately sighing into the contact. As Louis kissed him back, he attempted to convey every pent up feeling he had towards Harry. He carded his fingers into Harry’s damp curls, scratching his nails against his scalp. A pliant moan slipped from Harry’s mouth, his hips rolling down into Louis’. 

“I need to feel you,” Harry breathlessly rushed out. He pressed a firm kiss against Louis’ mouth, “ _Fuck_ , I have to feel you.” 

Louis eagerly nodded, his lips pulling away from Harry’s so he could pepper kisses against his cheeks. 

“Want you to.” 

Harry throatily moaned, shifting himself backwards so he was kneeling between Louis’ legs. His eyes were hooded as they raked down Louis’ chest towards his groin. Louis felt blush painting his chest when Harry licked his hand and circled it around Louis’ length. He tightened his fist and quickly worked his wrist of Louis’ cock. 

Louis’ thighs squeezed around Harry, “Ha – Harry, gonna make me come too soon.” 

Harry nodded, “Gonna have you come twice for me, little dove.” 

Louis mewled at the pet name, his shoulder blades digging into the soft moss as he thrusted into Harry’s fist. Harry ducked down and attached his mouth on Louis’ right nipple, immediately flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. A high-pitched keen pulled from Louis’ throat in response, his hands scrabbling to scratch at Harry’s shoulders. Harry lightly tugged on Louis’ nipple with his teeth in time with his thumb rolling over the slit of Louis’ cock. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis gritted between his teeth, his eyes pinched shut. 

“Can’t wait to taste you again,” Harry moaned against his chest, his hand firm as he continued to work Louis closer towards the edge. “Been craving honey all morning.” 

“ _Ohmygod_.”

Louis’ thighs twitched as heat poured through him, his head cocked backwards as a harsh breath got lodged in his throat. Harry outright groaned as Louis came into his fist, his hand easing up its grip as he worked Louis through his orgasm. He fluttered his eyes open when Harry pulled his hand away, sucking his digits into his mouth. 

“You’re too much,” Louis shook his head in open wonderment as he watched Harry lick himself clean. 

Harry bowed his head and trailed kisses down Louis’ abdomen, pausing by the pool of come along Louis’ cock. Louis weakly raised himself to his forearms when Harry darted his tongue out, lapping up the remainder of Louis’ orgasm. Louis’ jaw was slack, his cock already twitching in interest as Harry cleaned him, humming obscenely as he swallowed every bit. 

“Gonna taste you s’more,” Harry garbled out, his voice rough as if he was the one who had just come. He lightly tapped Louis’ thighs, “Sit up on your knees for me.” 

Louis lethargically shuffled to his knees, a confused wrinkle settling between his eyebrows as Harry laid on his back in front of him. His head rested against the ground as his fingers reached out for Louis’ thighs. Harry lightly pulled him forward, his head slightly tiled back to look at Louis. 

“Straddle my chest,” Harry instructed, encouraging Louis will a gentle tug.

“Oh,” Louis dumbly exhaled as he shuffled forward, careful not to knee Harry. He leaned forwards and rested his palms against Harry’s waist. 

Harry ran his hands along Louis’ back and the cushion of his arse. He gripped the thick muscle, “Sit back.” 

“I – I don’t, um,” Louis stuttered out, his heart threatening to go under cardiac arrest. 

“Trust me, little dove,” Harry murmured. He pinched Louis’ thigh, “I’ll pinch you if I need you to lean forward.” 

Louis nodded, his fingers pressing harder into Harry’s hips as he hesitantly lowered his waist. His eyes pinched shut as he felt Harry assuredly lick over his rim. Louis’ jaw drooped as he pressed back into the feeling of Harry’s tongue lapping against his entrance. Harry was getting well into it, faint whimpers of his own pressing into Louis’ skin as he flattened his tongue. 

“Feels so fucking good, H,” Louis moaned out. 

Harry leaned back, his hands hungrily gripping into Louis’ arse as if he couldn’t get in enough. Judging by the way he was licking him out, Louis supposed that maybe he couldn’t. 

“Taste so good,” Harry brokenly responded. He leaned forward to quickly nip at the cleft of Louis’ arse, “Never gonna find something sweeter.” 

Confidence bubbled inside of Louis as circled a hand around Harry’s length, immediately pulling a gravelly sigh from Harry’s throat. It wasn’t much different from touching himself, Louis quickly decided as he began pumping Harry’s cock. If anything, it was incredibly more appealing to be touching someone else, feel their weight in his hand. 

“Sweeter than honey?” Louis cheekily asked. 

“Fuck,” Harry groaned against his rim, sending vibrations along Louis’ spine. “You’re my favorite honey.” 

It was probably due to the fact that Harry was properly tonguing into him, but Louis could feel himself swoon at the earnestness in Harry’s words. He gripped Harry’s cock a bit firmer and arched his back, sucking his cockhead into his mouth. Harry immediately bucked up his hips in response, a surprised whimper slipping from his lips. 

“Can I open you up on my fingers?” Harry vehemently asked, his fingertips lightly running over Louis’ slick entrance. 

Louis immediately nodded, “Yeah, want all of you.” 

Harry leaned forward and pressed a final kiss against Louis’ rim before laying back. He lightly pinched Louis’ thigh, signaling for him to get off. Mindfully, Louis clambered over Harry’s chest, his movements a bit disoriented. Harry sat up and folded his legs, immediately pulling Louis into his lap. Louis wound his arms around Harry’s neck and wrapped his legs around his waist. 

With one arm firmly wound Louis’ waist, Harry brought his free hand towards Louis’ lips. Wordlessly, he pressed the digits against Louis’ lips. Without a second thought, Louis wrapped his lips around Harry’s fingers, pressing his tongue against him as sucked. Harry’s rings were cool against the seam of his lips, only spurring him on to slightly bob his head. 

Harry’s fingers roughly gripped Louis’ side as he watched Louis get his fingers slick. With a weak groan, Harry slowly slipped them from Louis’ mouth and promptly pushed them in his own. Louis gaped as Harry sucked on the digits, keeping his hazy eyes locked on Louis. Harry pulled his fingers out of his mouth, his lips shiny with spit as he reached around Louis. 

Louis ducked forward and kissed Harry, immediately opening his mouth to dip his tongue inside. His breath hitched as Harry pressed a slick finger against his rim, barely applying pressure as he traced the ring of muscle. Louis keenly whimpered into Harry’s mouth, his legs tightening around Harry’s waist. 

The first slide of Harry’s finger inside of him felt remarkably intimate. Louis gasped, pulling away from Harry’s mouth to meet his eyes. The stretch was completely unfamiliar, but it wasn’t exactly unwelcomed. He shifted his hips, pushing Harry in deeper to get comfortable around him. 

“Feel so smooth,” Harry praised as he slowly pumped his finger, rubbing Louis’ walls with the tip of the digit. He cradled Louis closer, “Tell me how you feel.” 

Louis tucked his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, wetly mouthing at the warm skin as Harry began to fuck his finger in earnest. He kissed Harry’s pulse point and found himself rocking back onto Harry’s hand, wanting to feel more. 

“Little dove,” Harry encouraged, dropping a kiss against Louis’ temple. 

“More,” Louis gasped as his cock rocked against Harry’s. 

He dropped a hand between them and wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks, jerking them both off in the same hand. Louis’ hand was dwarfed against Harry’s size, but judging by the needy moan it pulled from Harry, he figured that the other man didn’t mind. 

“Keep doing that,” Harry urged as he pressed a second finger into Louis. 

Louis’ back arched in response, the feeling of being full overriding anything that he had ever felt before. Harry was confident in his ministrations as he fingered him open, pulling high-pitched mewls from Louis with ever stroke against his walls. Louis licked his palm and then moved his hand back between them, both men releasing a moan as Louis slicked them up. In that moment, Louis was sure that no sensation could feel better.

That idea lasted until Harry crooked his fingers. 

Immediately, Louis stilled against Harry’s chest as a heat seared through his gut and emanated throughout the rest of his body. His cheeks inflamed as a surge of pleasure poured into his being from Harry’s fingers pressing into a certain spot inside of him. 

“There it is,” Harry smirked as he continued to massage Louis with his fingertips. Harry bit a rough kiss into the side of Louis’ neck, pulling away to murmur, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Louis repeatedly nodded, his fingers fisting the hairs along the nape of Harry’s neck. He was fully rocking back into Harry, feeling himself be brought closer and closer towards his second orgasm. 

“M’gonna come,” Louis whimpered, his thighs squeezing Harry in warning. 

Harry slowed his motions but kept his fingers buried deep inside of Louis, “Do you want to come like this?” He emphasized his words by deeply fucking his fingers once. 

As they sat tangled in the heart of the grotto, Louis’ heart raced with the realization that he would never find a better place or person to lose his virginity to.

“I want to have sex with you,” Louis whispered. 

“That’s what we are doing, little dove,” Harry breathlessly laughed, pressing an affectionate kiss against Louis’ cheekbone. 

“No, like,” Louis shook his head as embarrassment flushed his cheeks.

“You want me to make love to you?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as he gently pulled his fingers past Louis’ rim. 

Louis purposefully ignored the feelings that flourished in his chest from Harry’s words. He tucked his head into Harry’s shoulder, “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Louis,” Harry murmured, his fingers lightly stroking along Louis’ spine. “I’m not going to call it fucking, that’s not what _this_ is with you.” 

“And, um,” Louis’ voice slightly cracked as he managed, “Have you had _this_ , before? Like…with someone else?” 

“Never called it that before, no,” Harry admitted, moving his fingers to gently cradle Louis’ head. He thumbed Louis’ cheekbone and murmured, “I’d like to with you, though.” 

Louis nodded, pulling away from Harry’s shoulder to meet his eyes. The endless green immediately pulling him in as if they were beckoning him home. He leaned forward and kissed Harry, immediately melting into the other man. His heart felt bigger than his body as Harry cradled him close, holding his body as if he was fine art that needed to be shielded from the world’s brash antics. 

Harry slipped his arm around Louis’ waist and lowered him onto his back. Their mouth only broke apart when Harry leaned back against his knees. Harry grabbed both of their tunics and folded them underneath Louis’ arse so that his hips were slightly raised. Louis loosely fisted his cock as Harry drooled onto his fingers and rubbed the slick against Louis’ entrance. He repeated the same action with his cock and then leaned over Louis. 

“Are you sure?” Harry asked as he hovered over Louis’ entrance. 

Louis nodded, his thumb lightly pressing against Harry’s bottom lip. 

“I want this with you.” 

Louis’ jaw slackened as Harry pressed his hips forwards, the head of his cock pressing past Louis’ rim. Blood rushed to his ears, making everything cover in a blanketed haze as Harry slid into him. Harry’s body was taught, overly aware of every twitch and response that Louis’ body was revealing. Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s back, a monumental exhale puffing out when the shift cause Harry to bottom out. His hips cradled Louis’ arse and his arms bracketed Louis head. 

“Honey,” Harry murmured, his eyes searching Louis’ as he remained buried deep inside of Louis. His thumb stroked against Louis’ jawline, “Tell me you’re alright.” 

“Better than alright,” Louis whispered, his voice airy and almost foreign to his own ears. He leaned forwards and kissed Harry’s cheek, feeling his body relax around Harry inside of him.

“Move.” 

Harry sighed in relief, tension seeping out of his body and disappearing outside the mouth of the grotto. He shallowly pumped his hips, almost teasingly as Louis’ body shuddered around him. Louis was pliant underneath his movements, his body wanting to drink Harry in and drown in the sensation of Harry rocking into him. 

Louis dug his heel into the lower portion of Harry’s back, drawing him impossibly closer. Harry began to roll his hips, each stroke becoming deeper and longer. Helpless whines repeatedly toppled from Louis, the sounds echoing against the inside of the cave. It wasn’t only him, though. Harry’s guttural moans accompanied his, creating the loveliest harmony that Louis couldn’t have possibly dreamt. 

“You’re beautiful,” Harry rushed out as he moved a hand to grip Louis’ hip. He snapped his hip forwards, pulling a whimper from Louis, “So bloody beautiful.” 

“Thought you were gorgeous the moment I saw you,” the words tumbled out of Louis’ mouth before he could stop them. Louis tilted his head back, “Absolutely detested you…” Harry thrusted particularly hard in response, startling a breathless laugh from Louis. “But, I – _Oh, fuck_. I thought you were gorgeous.” 

“Still detest me?” Harry grunted as he ground his hips flush against Louis’ arse. 

Louis’ eyes rolled back inside his head, his bottom lip painfully tugged between his teeth. 

“Honey,” Harry taunted, pulling his hips back so only his cockhead was inside of Louis. 

“Don’t stop,” Louis whined, past the point of worrying about begging. 

“Answer me.” 

Louis opened his eyes as he tugged Harry’s hips forwards, making Harry bottom out on top of him. A low moan rolled off of Harry’s tongue as he lolled his forehead onto Louis’ shoulder. 

“Obviously, I don’t,” Louis huffed out. He thrusted his hips downwards onto Harry’s length as he gritted out, “I bloody adore you.” 

Harry smirked against Louis’ skin, “You adore me?” 

There was a different word on the tip of Louis’ tongue, one that wouldn’t be dishonest if he was to say it out loud in the ethereal grotto. Instead of saying it, he swallowed the feeling with a whimper, pushing down the heat that plucked his heartstrings like a fiddle. 

“I do,” Louis nipped Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t be a – Ah, shit. _Twat_.”

Harry pulled out, pulling a needy moan from Louis as well. He rolled onto his side and slung Louis’ leg over his hip. Louis rested his weight on his forearm and cupped Harry’s jaw with his free hand. Harry spat onto his hand and then pushed his cock back inside of Louis. Pulling him closer with his thigh, Louis rocked down onto Harry’s cock. 

“I do, too,” Harry said, his brows pulled together in concentration as he rolled his hips upwards. He grabbed Louis’ waist and brought their chests together, “I adore you, too.” 

Louis kissed him feverishly, their tongues colliding with one another as Harry fucked into him with deep thrusts. Heat piled in Louis’ gut and sweat was gathering between their bodies. The kiss was messy and somehow perfect as breathy moans slipped between their mouths. Harry angled his hips at a slightly different angle, his cockhead pressing into _that_ spot. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis canted, his pupils blown out. 

“Right there?” Harry gritted as he kept the same angle. 

Louis nodded, not able to formulate coherent words as Harry brought him to his orgasm. He felt as if he was being submerged into water, Harry rocking into him like the swell of the ocean as he came between their stomachs. Harry’s fingers were digging bruises into his waist as he buried himself into Louis. White dots speckled behind Louis’ eyelids when he pinched his eyes shut, feeling himself floating in a different headspace as Harry came inside of him. 

The grotto filled with ragged breathing, neither of the men moving an inch as they came down from their euphoric highs. Louis let his arm give out from underneath him as exhaustion pulled him to the earth. Harry panted into the crook of Louis’ neck, nuzzling his nose into the skin as if he wanted to burrow himself into the moment. 

Delicately, Harry slipped himself out of Louis. He rolled onto his back and pulled Louis onto his chest, protectively wrapping his arms around Louis’ back. Louis leisurely pressed kisses over Harry’s heart, smiling into the skin as he felt the quick palpitations. Their legs tangled together and a part of Louis knew that they had to get back to the ship, but another part of him, a more prominent part, wished that they could stay in the grotto for the rest of the day. 

“My little dove,” Harry murmured as he lightly traced nonsensical patters along Louis’ back. 

Louis nodded, his voice quiet, “Your little dove.” 

Harry kissed the top of his head as he let out a sated sighed. 

“I don’t want to go back,” Louis whispered as his fingers caressed Harry’s abdomen. 

“Never thought I would ever dread going back to sea,” Harry weakly laughed.

Louis pushed himself upwards so he could look at Harry. He bit his bottom lip as he waited for Harry to blink his sleepy eyes open. It didn’t take long before Harry lolled his head to the side, a gentle smile tugging the corner of his mouth as he looked at Louis. 

“Are things going to be different when we leave?” Louis hesitantly asked. 

Harry pushed himself upwards and cupped his palm against the pulse point in Louis’ neck. His expression was serious and yet collected at the same time. Louis was sure that Harry could feel his pulse rabbit against his hand. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harry parroted what he asked Louis earlier. 

Louis beamed as he quickly ducked forward to kiss Harry. Harry’s matching grin made the kiss nearly impossible but neither of them pulled away until they were almost giddily laughing into each other’s mouths. 

Harry thumbed Louis’ bottom lip, “I won’t give you special treatment, though. That wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the crew.” 

“I know,” Louis nodded in understanding. He kissed Harry’s thumb, “I wouldn’t want you to.” 

“Didn’t think so,” Harry smirked, pulling him in for another kiss. 

“We have to leave, don’t we?” Louis asked, his bottom lip slightly jutted out. 

Harry nodded, “I would still like my ship to be there when we get back.” 

Louis’ eyes widened, “You don’t think they would maroon you…Do you?”

Harry shook his head as he laughed, the infectious sound reverberating in the cavern. “Gemma would cut them all down before they even thought about it.”

“That’s true.” 

“Come on,” Harry sighed as he stood up, reaching out a hand to help Louis. “Let’s wash off and head back to the shore.” 

Louis took his hand and let himself be pulled upright. They made quick work of jumping back into the water, Louis dunking himself underneath the surface to help make his hair more manageable. With the sheer layer of sweat and come washed away, Louis pulled himself out of the water. He pulled his clothes back on, slightly grimacing at the feeling of the material against his damp skin. Harry was quick to follow suit, both of them dressing in comfortable silence. 

“Ready, little dove?”

“No.”

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he led the way out of the cave. With a last longing look at the sanctuary, Louis followed him outside. The sun was higher in the sky than when they had left and Louis felt a bit bad for the crew who were momentarily stranded on the beach. Then again, he was allowing himself to be a bit selfish and not feel an ounce of remorse for what happened in the grotto. Louis heard the crew before he saw them, their brash voices filtering into the brush as they neared the clearing. When they stepped out onto the beach, Louis wasn’t sure what to expect. 

The men closest towards where they exited, let out a howl of wolf whistles when they saw Harry and Louis. That effectively gained the attention of the rest of the crew, creating a ripple effect along the beach of obnoxious cheers and clapping. Louis’ cheeks flushed crimson, his steps faltering beside Harry. 

“Alright, you’ve had your go!” Harry shouted, laughter evident in his voice as he slung his arm around Louis’ shoulders. Louis bit back a grin as Harry pulled him flush against his side, “Now start getting into the jollys before I think about deserting you sorry lot!” 

Louis let Harry pull him into the first boat, immediately settling by his side as other pirates filtered in the boat. 

“I am gettin’ on that fuckin’ jolly!”

Louis cackled as Niall gripped the back of a pirate’s shirt and hauled him out of the boat. He chucked the unsuspecting man into the wet sand as he took his place across from Louis. Niall expectantly looked at them with the smuggest expression that he could possibly muster. 

“Oi! Hold on, if Horan is going in that boat, so are we!”

Zayn, Liam, and Gemma bounded towards them in long strides. The three other pirates in the jolly sighed with defeat, knowing that it wasn’t worth it to argue with three pirates who were all of a higher rank. Louis gaped as they fell into the boat, effectively caging Harry and Louis between them. 

“So…” Niall drawled out as he waggled his eyebrows. “Tomlinson, ye still a virgin?” 

“Niall!” the other five groaned. 

****

Louis’ legs dangled in the air as he rested his back against the mizzen. It was unusually quiet above the deck. The only sound that filtered high enough was the gentle rush of the ocean as it rocked the ship. He mindlessly toyed with the headscarf wrapped around his head, his fingers tangling with the tattered material that Harry had given him. The captain had claimed the red hue brought out the blue of Louis’ eyes as he knotted it around his head. Louis chose to fondly roll his eyes instead of mentioning that Harry just liked to see him in his clothes. 

Harry had changed their heading for Kensington when they left the island a fortnight ago. Louis hadn’t thought much about it, more so distracted by learning the curves of Harry’s body instead of worrying about the future. However as they were bound to dock the following evening, Louis found himself dreading what was to come. 

He sighed as he lolled his head against the wooden post, letting the moonlight drench him as visuals of his family rolled through his mind. When Louis casually mentioned that he was anxious to go back to the manor, Harry reassured him that they could slip in and out before his family noticed. Louis didn’t bother to mention that Harry’s words weren’t remotely soothing. Instead, he accepted the soft kiss against his temple and pretended to fall asleep as he was tucked against Harry’s chest. 

There were different possibilities that could come from them going to Kensington, not one of them necessarily positive as far as Louis was concerned. Unless by some miracle, Louis introduced Harry to his mother and she understood why Louis couldn’t return home. Well, _wouldn’t_ return home. Harry’s suggestion that he didn’t see them at all left a foul taste in his mouth even though it would be the easiest route. Louis supposed he could leave a note behind to reassure them that he was still alive, but that would also mean not seeing his family one last time. 

Louis blinked his eyes open when he heard boots clattering across the deck. Since it was in the middle of the night, Louis thought the only other person awake would be Niall at the wheel. He narrowed his eyes towards the deck, grinning as he saw Harry combing over the deck with sleep rumpled curls. A tinge of regret filled Louis’ heart at leaving Harry in his cabins while he was sleeping. But with their impending arrival, Louis didn’t have any chance at getting a good sleep. 

He cupped his hands around his mouth and whistled a soft melody. Louis bit back a laugh as Harry halted in his steps, his head whipping from side to side. Louis repeated the call, making it a tad louder. Harry lolled his head backwards as he looked towards the mizzen. When he saw Louis hovering above him, Louis saw a mixture of relief and amusement painting his face. 

Harry moved towards the shroud and began to climb his way up towards Louis. He moved easily along the rope, climbing towards the mast at a faster pace than Louis could manage. Louis liked to imagine that one day he would be able to have the same agility that came from years of being at sea. 

“I thought I heard a little dove,” Harry grinned once he got to the top. 

Louis scooted forwards to let Harry slip behind him. Harry straddled the post and wrapped his arms around Louis’ middle, pulling him against his chest. Louis went easily, fully trusting Harry as he leaned back and shut his eyes. Since the grotto, touching had become almost second nature between the two of them. Louis found himself reaching out towards Harry more than not and he couldn’t bring himself to overthink what that meant.

“I was worried,” Harry murmured against Louis’ temple. 

“Sorry,” Louis leaned into his touch. He folded his arms over Harry’s and lightly traced his thumb against Harry’s skin. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

Louis shook his head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry quietly asked. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Always,” Harry easily answered. 

His answer was lightyears away from what it would have been just two months prior. Louis’ awareness of that only made him burrow himself further into Harry’s chest.

“What did your mother say when Gemma and you left?” 

Since the night of the raid, Harry never brought up his mother again. Louis didn’t want to push him on his past, more than happy to talk to him about the books that flooded his cabins or his stories of pillaging with the crew. He was fine that when it came to discussing family, it seemed to solely circle around Louis’. However, that night in particular, Louis needed reassurance that it would be okay. He thought that if he knew Harry’s story, he would have a bit of faith for what was in store for his own. 

Harry sighed, “I’ve never told anyone –”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Louis quickly rushed out, feeling unreasonably embarrassed that he asked in the first place. 

“Let me finish,” Harry lightly laughed as he kissed the side of Louis’ head. “As I was saying, I’ve never told anyone. Not even Zayn or Liam,” Harry quietly muttered. His arms tightened around Louis when he continued, “But…I, um, I’d like to tell you.”

“Are you sure?” Louis checked, genuinely not wanting to push Harry into something he didn’t want. 

Harry nodded, “I want you to know everything about me.” 

After a beat of silence, Louis honestly murmured, “I want to know everything about you.” 

“I grew up in Billingsgate, London,” Harry began, his voice coated with nostalgia as he spoke. “It’s known for its fish market and not much else,” he laughed, pulling a smile from Louis. 

“Did you dream of being a fisherman?” Louis teased. 

“Shush, you,” Harry poked him in the side. His voice was quiet when he said, “I actually dreamed of joining the navy.”

Louis’ brows furrowed as he tiled his head to the side to get a look at Harry’s profile, “ _You_ wanted to be in the navy?” 

Harry shrugged, “Ironic, innit?” 

“Just a bit,” Louis peered at him. He turned back to look forwards, “What happened?” 

“When I was sixteen,” Harry drawled out, his voice lowering, “There was a raid at the local market. Pirates came and pillaged everything, stealing earnings and destroying the merchants’ stands.” His voice slightly caught as he continued, “The bakery my mother owned wasn’t part of the market, but it didn’t matter. They broke down the door and took everything she had saved.” 

“Then the navy came in on their big ships,” Harry bitterly laughed, his voice colder than Louis had heard in ages. “I even remember feeling _relieved_ when they ran off and filed into the market. There they were, my heroes, coming to Billingsgate to stop the horrible pirates from destroying my home.”

Harry deeply breathed through his nose, his head tilted back when he continued, “My mother was tugging Gemma and I out of the shop, trying to get us home, when she was shot in her shoulder.”

Louis choked on his breath, his fingers instinctively gripping Harry tighter to him. 

“When I turned around to find the bastard pirate who shot her, I saw your father standing there with his pistol raised.” 

Jolting forwards, Louis pulled himself out of Harry’s arms and turned around to face him. Harry’s eyes were welled up with unshed tears as he roughly sniffed a breath through his nose. Louis’ ears were roaring with Harry’s words, the sentence continuously assaulting his senses as he digested the weight of the admission. 

“Harry,” Louis brokenly said, his fingers hesitantly reaching out to touch him. 

“I don’t believe he meant to shoot her,” Harry murmured as he pulled Louis’ hand in his lap, his eyes concentrated on Louis’ fingers. His brows pulled together as he looked up, “Regardless, the wound got infected and she didn’t last the following fortnight.” 

Louis shook his head, his throat constricted as he thought about a sixteen year old Harry, equally filled with a torrential amount of confusion and rage. It was something that Louis couldn’t possibly fathom, even if he was given the rest of his life to dwell over it. Bile was thick in his throat as he thought about how it was his own blood that tore Harry’s life apart. A part of him felt guilt rise in his gut. 

“I’m so sorry,” Louis weakly said, not sure what he would ever be able to say to rectify the situation. 

Harry shook his head, “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“But –”

“No,” Harry sharply cut him off, his tone authoritative as he intently stared at Louis. He squeezed Louis’ fingers, “You had nothing to do with it and you aren’t even comparable to your father.” 

Louis sighed, “Then why do I feel guilty?” 

“I thought you might,” Harry admitted. The corner of his mouth dipped down, “That’s why I hadn’t told you.” 

“I’m glad you told me,” Louis said after a moment. “Puts things with my father into perspective.”

Harry shrugged, “Even though I know he didn’t do it on purpose…She was my favorite person in this world.” Louis could feel his heart shatter as Harry sniffed back, “How am I supposed to let that go?” 

Knowing that Harry wasn’t looking for an answer, Louis carefully asked, “Do you want to tell me about her?” 

Harry looked up at Louis, a fond smile pressing its way onto his face, “I think I would.” 

Louis encouragingly squeezed Harry’s fingers, “You said she owned a bakery?”

“Aye,” Harry nodded, his eyes warm with nostalgia. “She baked the best pastries in the whole town, especially these flaky blueberry ones that she made only in the summer.”

“Couldn’t have had much competition with all the fish,” Louis gently teased, earning himself a dimpled laugh in response. 

Harry scoffed, “You’re not wrong.” 

“What did she look like?”

Louis listened as Harry went on to describe his mother, unadulterated adoration layering his timbre with every detail. With every question Louis asked, he could see Harry visibly relax when he responded. Eventually, Louis had stopped asking questions all together, just sitting with their fingers intertwined as Harry launched into story after story about his childhood. His cheeks were ruddy from laughter and Louis supposed that he hadn’t had the chance to reminisce on good childhood memories since they happened. 

As the sun crept along the horizon, Louis murmured, “Thank you for telling me about her, you didn’t have to.” 

He lifted Louis’ knuckles and kissed each one, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harry weakly smiled. 

Louis huffed out a humorless laugh, “Not this time.” 

Harry’s gaze was intent, a layer of vulnerability openly on display as their eyes locked.

“You’re the other swallow.” 

Louis’ back straightened, his eyes wide as they instinctively darted towards the tattoos on Harry’s chest. The two swallows impregnated onto his skin peeked through his sheer tunic. 

“Thought I was a dove,” Louis sniffed as a watery smile pulled at his lips. 

Harry laughed, traces of sadness completely ridded from his countenance as the sunrise saturated his frame. He lightly pulled Louis forwards, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. 

“Aye,” Harry grinned against Louis’ mouth, “That, too.”

“You think I’m your soulmate?” Louis beamed as he lightly rubbed their noses together. 

“I do,” Harry nodded, fully unabashed. He nipped Louis’ bottom lip, “Say it back.” 

Louis fondly rolled his eyes, his nose slightly scrunching, “You’re my other swallow, too.” 

Harry’s face split as he toothily smiled back at Louis. He titled his head and pressed longer kiss to Louis’ lips, humming as Louis lolled his head to side to deepen it. They lazily kissed as the sunset drowned them in delicate hues, only pulling apart as voices began to flood over the main deck. 

“Let’s get you back down,” Harry murmured. He pulled away from Louis’ mouth to press his lips against Louis’ forehead. “You need to rest.” 

“Will you stay with me?” Louis softly asked. 

“Aye, until you fall asleep,” Harry nodded.

“Okay.” 

Harry climbed off of the post first, waiting a few feet down on the shroud as Louis gingerly moved to follow him. They scaled down the netted rope, Louis’ steps more sure with each footing as they went. At the bottom, Harry hopped off of the shroud and immediately moved his hands to Louis’ hips to help guide him onto the deck. A part of Louis wanted to bat his hands away and roll his eyes as he insisted that he didn’t need Harry to help him. An even larger part of him always wanted Harry to treat him as if he was something precious.

With Harry’s hand on his lower back, he ushered Louis back to his cabin. That was another development between them, Louis sleeping next to Harry in his bed instead of below deck with the rest of the crew. At first, Louis thought that he would be judged for getting “special” treatment. That worry was alleviated when Niall told him that he would have slept with Harry ages ago if it meant he got to sleep in a proper bed. Louis assured him that if he ever thought about it again, he would knee Niall in his groin. 

Louis hauled the door open, immediately pulling his shirt over his head as he moved towards Harry’s bed. He heard Harry pull the door shut and the sound of his boots being kicked off. With just his trousers on, Louis clambered into Harry’s bed, immediately rooting himself underneath a lush blanket. Harry slipped in beside Louis, curling around his smaller frame. 

“Get some sleep, little dove,” Harry whispered against the crown of Louis’ head. 

Momentarily pushing thoughts of his family aside, Louis let himself relax in Harry’s hold. The taught tendons of his body went lax, his lips pillowing as his breathing evened. His purple eyelids were and he began to dream of swallows flitting through the air. A pair of lithe birds free from the world’s horrors as they soared into the skyline. 

**** 

Louis woke up to Harry pressing lush kisses against his shoulder. He contently hummed and blindly reached behind him to cradle Harry’s neck. 

“Time to go,” Harry whispered against his skin. 

“We’re already here?” Louis croaked, his voice rocky with a layer of sleep. 

He felt Harry nod against his shoulder before he pulled away, “You’ve been asleep all day.” 

Louis blinked his eyes open and sat upwards, “All day?” 

“I think Niall thought I killed you when you didn’t show up for dinner.” Harry fondly rolled his eyes. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he continued, “I checked on you a few times to make sure you were breathing, though…Did you know you snore?”

Louis cheeks tinged pink, “I most certainly do not.”

“You most certainly do,” Harry cackled, bringing his forefinger to lightly brush against Louis’ cheekbone. 

Louis batted his hand away and sat up, groaning as he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. His hands drooped and he pushed himself out of bed, moving to tug on his clothes. Harry quietly waited for him, probably sensing the tension that rolled off of his body as realization sunk in. Louis tugged on his boots and paused for a moment as he thumbed the headscarf Harry gave him. It felt oddly symbolic to Louis if he wore it to his house, signifying how different he was since he was last there. 

Hesitating for a moment, Louis held it out towards Harry, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Harry gently shook his head as he took the fabric and stood behind Louis. He knotted the fabric around Louis’ forehead, his nimble fingers delicate as he knotted it behind his head. 

“Looks gorgeous on you,” Harry admired as he took a step back. 

“I think it’s growing on me,” Louis admitted, his lips quirking into a smirk as he saw Harry’s pleased expression. 

“Be careful, Tomlinson,” Harry teased as he walked backwards towards the door. He grabbed his green jacket off of a lounge chair, “ Or else I’ll end up buying you every scarf I see.”  
“You mean steal,” Louis pointedly cocked his hands on his hips. 

Harry grinned, “That, too.” 

“What are we going to do when we leave? Sail right to Caicos?” 

“Tortuga, first,” Harry shook his head. He put his hand on Louis’ lower back, “We need to get some more artillery. Probably will stay the night so the crew can drink and fuck, get it out of their system.” 

Louis nodded and pulled the door open. The two men shuffled out of the cabins and Louis wasn’t sure why he was surprised to see that it was in the dead of night, the opulent moon positioned directly overhead. He anxiously bit into his bottom lip as they trudged towards the suspended jolly, the crew members all huddled around them. Niall had one leg in the boat and another on the banister as he reached out a hand. 

“Good luck, savvy,” Niall sincerely said as he helped Louis into the jolly. 

Louis bit back a smile, “Don’t get sentimental on me, Neil.” 

“Fuck off,” Niall rolled his eyes. 

Harry stood by the banister, turning his back towards Louis as he stared out at the crew. His shoulders were pulled back and the brim of his black hat casted a threatening shadow around him. If Louis didn’t know Harry as well as he did, he would have felt intimidated underneath his authoritative demeanor. 

“Listen here and listen closely,” Harry bellowed out, a hush silencing the crew as they waited for their captain to continue. “The only people permitted off of this ship are Tomlinson and myself,” he sternly said, his tone not leaving any room for debate. “If any other member of this crew even attempts to leave my ship, Malik, Payne, and Styles have my full blessing to shoot them.” 

Louis gaped as his words hung in the air. The crew looked slightly shell-shocked from the order, their eyes wide as they hesitantly nodded. Even for Harry, it seems a tad drastic of a conclusion. Then again, that meant there wasn’t a possibility for any other pirates to get close to the manor. Louis supposed that he couldn’t feel remotely bothered by that. 

“You heard him, you sorry bastards,” Zayn stepped away from the crowd with a malicious grin on his face. He pulled out his pistol and threateningly cocked it, “Get to your posts and remain there until they return.” 

“All bloody night?” A man incredulously asked, his pointed face scrunched in frustration. “That’s that stupidest call o’ order yet.” 

Zayn lethargically lolled his head to the side to look at Harry with a raised brow. Without a word, Harry tilted his chin upwards in response. Before Louis could gauge what was happening, Zayn fired the pistol and shot the man in his chest. Louis’ hands flew over his mouth as he watched his body lamely fall to the ground. 

“Aye,” Zayn gritted from his teeth. “All bloody night.” 

The rest of the crew quickly bustled to their posts, not daring to question what had just happened. Louis’ eyes were still wide as Harry sank in front of him, signaling for Niall and Gemma to let them down. The jolly shook underneath him as they were gradually lowered, Louis eyes locked on Harry’s. 

“What?” Harry asked, his head cocked to the side. 

Louis’ jaw hung loose as he gawked at him. He leaned forward and slapped Harry on the bicep, eliciting a surprised laugh from Harry. 

“You didn’t have to go and kill a man to make a point!” Louis exclaimed, attempting to keep his voice relatively low so his words didn’t carry to the ship. 

“I didn’t, Zayn did,” Harry shrugged as he pulled two oars from the bottom of the jolly. 

“You gave him approval,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You can’t hand out a death sentence to everyone who argues with you.” 

“I haven’t killed you, have I?” Harry challenged. 

“That’s – That’s different,” Louis stammered, his voice becoming uneven. 

The jolly touched the water and Louis folded his arms over his chest as Harry detached the small boat. His arms flexed as he lowered the oars into the water and began to row them towards the barren docks. Since it was late in the night, there were only a few oil lamps still burning to illuminate the port. That meant fewer chances of them being seen by locals. 

“Louis,” Harry heavily sighed after a moment when Louis refused to relax his position. He stopped rowing as he lowered his tone, “I can’t pretend that this isn’t part of my lifestyle.” 

“I know it is,” Louis huffed out. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, “But…There is a difference between killing someone in self-defense and killing someone just because you can.”

Harry paused, his eyes thoughtful, “This really bothers you, doesn’t it?” 

“Well,” Louis helplessly shrugged, “Yes.” 

“Alright,” Harry drawled out as his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. He nodded to himself as if he was settling on a decision, his voice firm when he said, “I’ll make an effort to change.”

Louis balked, “You will?” 

“I want you to be happy here,” Harry answered as if it was the easiest thing. 

Louis leaned forward and kissed him, not trusting that this words would show how much he adored him. The immensity of his feelings towards Harry were heavy inside of Louis’ chest, managing to burrow themselves somewhere inside the deepest pools of his heart. He knew the word that helplessly wanted to break free, the only word that could possible encapsulate everything that he had been feeling. It tasted sweet as it threatened to roll off his tongue and seep into Harry’s mouth. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips, pressing a quick succession of two more kisses for good measure. 

Harry kissed him back, catching every kiss that Louis had to give him. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Louis leaned away and bit back a grin as Harry rowed them to shore. His eyes were locked on the docks as they approached, his fingers anxiously twisting in his lap. Harry directed them past the main dock, choosing to haul the boat towards a slightly secluded bit of shoreline. He jumped out of the jolly and Louis was quick to follow suit, the water immediately soaking his boots. Harry’s biceps pulled against the fitted material of his jacket as he dragged the jolly behind a shrub. 

They were quiet as they wound through the town, avoiding walking beneath the burning lamps. Harry cautiously led them through the winding streets, Louis almost scoffing since Kensington was in fact _his_ town. Marred conversations filtered from the local tavern and Louis fought of the temptation to duck inside and see if by some miracle, things had changed. It felt odd, being back in the town that he thought he would never leave. Now, after everything that he knew was out there, Louis couldn’t imagine why he ever wanted to stay. 

Climbing the hill Louis had trudged more time times than he could count, they approached the manor. There weren’t any lights burning in the windows and the building was obscured by the darkness and ropes of ivy. Instinctively, Louis glimpsed at the window of his room. 

“Does your family keep the doors locked?” Harry quietly asked, pulling Louis out of his own bubble. 

He nodded, “They do.” 

Without explaining, Louis walked towards the ivory, his fingers lightly running over the thick vines. He wrapped his hand around the thicket twine and roughly yanked on it. A satisfied smirk made its way onto his mouth when the ivy didn’t budge. 

“When I was little, my mother never let me out past dark,” Louis began to explain, looking over his shoulder. Harry’s eyes scaled the length of the building, realization clearing his eyes as Louis began to haul himself up the ivy. 

“So,” Louis huffed out as he continued to climb, “I had to improvise.” 

Harry cackled, immediately covering his mouth when the sound wracked through the property. 

“You little rebel,” Harry quietly chided, beginning to climb after Louis. 

When Louis got to the ledge of his window, he reached out and pulled the window upwards. Relief flooded through him as it opened easily. He carefully climbed through the empty pane, crouching on the ground when his feet landed. Harry was quick after him, his dismount effortless and quiet as he propelled into the room. Louis quickly darted towards the chest with the letters, easily flipping it open to reveal the layers of parchment. Wordlessly, he stood upright and passed them all to Harry. 

“Louis?” 

Louis felt as if he was submerged into a vat of ice water. He whipped towards his bed, gaping when he saw Charlotte sitting upwards with the duvet pooled around her hips. Her silver tresses were illuminated from the moonlight, shimmering underneath the glow as she shook her head in disbelief. She moved to clamber out of his bed, freezing in spot when her eyes landed on Harry’s figure in the shadows. 

Charlotte opened her mouth and Louis had barely rushed out, “Charlotte, don–,” before she let out an ear shattering scream. Louis darted forwards and wrapped his hand around her mouth, but it was too late. Shouts erupted from within the manor and footsteps raced towards the door. Louis looked over his shoulder, eyes frantic as Harry shuffled back against the wall. 

“Charlotte!” 

His mother rushed into the room with a pistol in her hand, eyes wild as she saw the scene unravel. Louis backed away from the bed, immediately placing himself in front of Harry’s frozen frame. His hands instinctively reached back, roughly gripping Harry’s hips with his fingers. Louis’ heart thundered in his chest as his eyes darted between his mother and Charlotte. 

“Louis?” Johanna brokenly gasped, her voice painfully hopeful as a watery smile tugged at her lips. 

However, similar to Charlotte, it was quickly replaced with panic when she gauged the unfamiliar man in the room. She raised the pistol, her hand wavering in the air as she crossed the floor. 

“You – You let him go!” She shouted at Harry, blocking Charlotte’s frame with her own. 

“No,” Louis begged as he shook his head, “You don’t understand, he’s –”

“Louis, run here,” Johanna urged as she cocked the pistol and nodded towards her side. “It will be alright, darling. He won’t hurt you.” If it wasn’t for the tremor in her voice, Louis might have thought she believed her own words. 

Louis cautiously stepped forward, his hands held up, “Harry isn’t going to hurt me.” 

“I’m not,” Harry weakly offered from behind him. Louis didn’t have to turn around to know that his stance probably mirrored his own. 

“But – Louis stop, he will,” Johanna floundered, fresh tears streaking her cheeks as he looked between the two. 

“He won’t,” Louis urged. “He won’t harm me, I _promise_ you.” 

“You’ve been gone so long,” Johanna hiccupped, her head shaking from side to side. “He’s manipulated you! He – You can’t trust him,” she begged. 

“I can,” Louis firmly stated, pouring every ounce of truth into the statement. “We’ve only just come to get the letters, that’s all.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the letters in Harry’s grip. Johanna’s eyes darted from Louis to Harry before she lunged forwards. Her slight hand wrapped around Louis’ wrist and with all her strength, she pulled him flush to her side. Louis stumbled into her, releasing a gush of air as he gauged the change of dynamic. 

Harry was alone against the other wall, his hands still raised as his doe-eyes were frantically searching Louis’ face. Louis could see his fingers twitch and he knew that Harry was fighting back reaching for his own gun. With pleading eyes, Louis shook his head, mentally urging him not to do anything rash. 

“You came for the letters and nothing else?” Johanna hesitantly asked, her fingers still firm around Louis’ wrist. 

“That’s all we came for, Mrs. Tomlinson,” Harry carefully nodded. 

“Well,” She raised the pistol a tad higher, “You’ve got them.” She quickly gestured the mouth of the gun towards the door, “Leave Louis, you don’t need him. He’s a good man, you – You can’t take him away again!” 

“I –,” Harry broke off, visibly taken aback by her worlds. 

“What!” Louis tugged at his wrist, the vice of her hold impossibly tight as she refused to let go. Louis’ voice cracked as he begged for he to understand, “You don’t understand, I _want_ to go back with him!” 

“No,” Johanna sobbed, her hand dangerously trembling as she held the pistol. “No, I’m not losing my son again.” 

Harry’s posture was rigid as Johana’s words hung in the room. 

“Harry, don’t you dare leave,” Louis spat when he could visibly see Harry’s resolve crumbling. 

“I won’t separate a son from his mother,” Harry mumbled so quietly that the words were almost drowned out by Louis’ erratic heartbeat. He shook his head and when he looked back up, his eyes were glistening, “I’m not that selfish.” 

“Harry,” Louis croaked, his hand going limp in his mother’s hold. 

Shoving the letters in his pocket, Harry bounded towards the window. He slipped from view and Louis was immediately pushing his mother off of him. When she finally let go, Louis ran to the window. Harry was already jumping off of the ivy, his head hung low as he began to stride away from the manor. Without thinking, Louis cupped his hands around his mouth and whistled the same melody from the night before. Harry stopped in place and for a moment, Louis thought he might not turn around. 

Slowly, Harry turned on his heel and looked up at the manor. At first he didn’t move as he stared back at Louis. Then, subtly, he tapped his fingers over his left pec, just underneath his collarbone. Louis could feel his heart shattering into an oblivion as realization poured over him. 

Harry was tapping the swallow. 

Tapping his own fingers over his chest in the same manor, Louis watched Harry walk away until his silhouette disappeared below the dip of the hill.


	8. Chapter 8

_Harry left him behind._

Every previous assumption of comprehending what heartache was had been diminished by the roaring pain that harpooned itself into Louis’ chest. His fingernails dug into the windowsill as his knees gave out from under him, the wall cradling his descent while he sunk against it. A ricocheting thunder of grief seeped through his bloodstream, consuming every one of his senses until he couldn’t properly breathe. 

_He left._

Louis indolently shook his head from side to side, his heels of his palms digging into his eyelids as tears began to sting his eyes. His back arched over while he cocooned himself with his raised knees. A pair of delicate hands were roaming over his back and Louis was vaguely aware that a voice was attempting to soothe him. It was impossible to hear, the sound muffled as if he was submerged in the ocean and someone was shouting at him from the surface. 

A horrific sob ripped his throat raw when his mother pulled him against her chest. Her fingers carded through his hair and Louis hated the part of him that immediately rejected the touch, wishing the fingers were longer and firmer. His breathing was erratic, every inhale sounding as if he finally rose from the depths the personal ocean of green that drowned him.

“It’s alright, Darling,” His mother cooed, steadily rocking him as if he was a newborn. 

Louis vehemently shook his head, not bothering to voice that he was the farthest from alright.

“You’re safe now,” Johanna murmured, her fingers delicately brushing his hair off his forehead. 

_Safe._

Louis blanched at the word, rearing back from his mother’s touch as if she was a hot iron. If there was anything Louis could understand in that moment, it was that he never felt more vulnerable in his entire life. There wasn’t a molecule in his body that felt remotely safe with Harry already charting across the Caribbean and away from him. 

A sickening tick in his mind told him that Harry had used him for the letters, that his initial inclination was correct and he was just a mere pawn in a chess game of revenge. He clenched his eyes shut, his nostrils flaring as he stomped the idea out. Harry left because of what had happened with his own history, the fact that he had lost his mother without a choice. He believed that he was doing the right thing, Louis saw it written all over his expression as he climbed out the window. It wasn’t personal. 

_How could it not be?_

Louis dry-heaved, his back obscenely bowing as he coughed out wracked breaths. His knees were flush to the ground as his fingers scrambled to grab purchase against the polished wood. Tears were freely cascading down his sickly pale skin, each drop splattering against the flooring. The metallic taste of blood tinged his spit as his teeth clenched around his tongue. 

“Louis…” Charlotte weakly tried, shuffling over the floor to sit in front of him. She cradled Louis’ jaw in her hands and tiled his head back, blue piercing blue as they locked eyes. “He can’t hurt you anymore, we promise.” 

He shook his head, “You – You don’t understand.” 

Johanna crowded behind him, her hands sure as she gripped his biceps, “Whatever happened, whatever that monster did…It’s over. We’re going to look after you.” 

“Harry,” Louis weakly corrected. He hiccupped and scrubbed the back of his hand over his face, “His name is Harry and he didn’t _do_ anything.” 

Charlotte glanced over Louis’ shoulder, her eyebrows pulled together as she stared at Johanna with confusion drenching her countenance.

“Lou,” Charlotte tried again, her thumb lightly rubbing his damp cheek, “He did…He _took_ you from us.” 

“No,” Louis’ voice cracked as his stomach began to turn on itself. His nailbeds had flushed ivory as they dug into the floorboards beneath him, “He didn’t.” 

“I – I don’t understand,” Charlotte’s voice shook, concern replacing confusion as her eyes darted between her brother and her mother. 

“I wasn’t a hostage,” Louis’ roughly sniffed his nose, the sound of congestion thick in his voice. “Well,” he humorlessly chuckled, “Not after the first night, anyways.” 

Johanna pulled the headscarf off of his head and pressed a firm kiss against his temple. “You’re just exhausted, Darling,” she rushed out, barely masking the hysterics in her tone. “Let’s put you to bed. Your mind will make more sense in the morning after you’ve rested in your own bed.” 

“No!” Louis spat out as he snatched the headscarf from her grip, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. 

Johanna and Charlotte were frozen in place, their eyes wide as Louis attempted to pull himself upright. His legs slightly wobbled, a hand immediately reaching out for the windowsill to steady him. 

“No,” he repeated, his tone quieter the second time around. He fisted the material closer towards his chest, “I don’t need to sleep, I _need_ Harry.”

“Charlotte, make your brother a spot of tea,” Johanna instructed as she jutted her chin towards the exit. 

“But –”

“Charlotte,” She warned, her eyes slightly narrowing. 

His younger sister remained rooted in place, her hand beginning to reach out towards Louis before she let it fall to her side. With a last look towards Johanna, she nodded and left them alone. 

“Come on, Darling,” Johanna murmured, leading Louis towards his bed. 

“No,” Louis shook his head, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he shook his head. 

To him, getting in that bed meant he was giving up. 

“I won’t make you go to sleep,” Johanna sighed, moving to tuck herself underneath the covers. She patted the space next to her, “Come on then.” 

Hesitantly, Louis stepped towards the bed. His fingers shook as he pressed them against the mattress, resolutely biting back a fresh set of sobs as he tucked himself in. It was the bed he has spent eighteen years sleeping in, but it lacked any ounce of comfort that he used to feel. The lingering smell of rose oil was nowhere to be found when he sharply inhaled. Louis shook his head; it was all wrong. He crossed his legs and held the headscarf in his lap, his eyes trained on the faded fabric. 

“Why do you need Harry?” 

Louis sniffed as he faintly shrugged, “I can’t explain it.” 

“I’ll never understand if you don’t try.”

“You wouldn’t like it,” Louis whispered, his eyes reluctantly shifting from his hands towards his mother. 

“I could never blame you for what happened,” She said, pulling one of Louis’ hands in her lap to hold. She intertwined their fingers and lightly squeezed, “Or anything that you did while you were gone.” 

Louis’ breathing wavered as he stared at their intertwined hands, his heart feeling as if it was an anvil in his chest. He had always been close to his mother, preferring her company over anyone else’s until the day he left Kensington. For a while, they only had each other. She was his confidant for eighteen years and in return, he was hers…But, that could easily change if she knew the truth. If she knew the depths of his feelings let alone the crimes he had committed. 

_Piracy._

“I don’t want you to hate me.” 

The words hung between them in a silence that felt heavier than the earth itself. 

“Listen here,” Johanna pressed their sides together, “You are my son. There isn’t anything that could change that or take away my love for you.” She raised their joint hands and pressed a firm kiss against his skin, “Absolutely nothing.” 

Louis met her eyes and searched through the openness that reflected back at him. 

“I love him.” 

Johanna’s eyes widened to an almost comical degree, her lips following suit as she gaped. Recovering quickly, she shut her mouth and nodded her head. Louis could see her mind racking over itself as her eyes flitted across the bedspread. She let out a surprised snort, her hand immediately covering her mouth. 

“I’m so sorry,” She said on a laugh, her cheeks turning pink. She shook her head, “That…Well, that was not what I expected you to say.” Sputters of laughter slipped out of her mouth, chopping her words between breaths, “I – I was expecting something more along the lines of you stealing a boat.” 

Louis’ mouth quirked into a grin and before he could help it, he was crackling out a loud spout of laughter. Johanna wrapped her arm around his shoulder, slightly shaking from her own laughs as she pulled him close. 

When his laughter died out, Louis anxiously twisted his hands with the headscarf, “Are…Are you upset?” 

There was a contemplative hum reverberating in her chest, “Upset is not the correct word for it.” She lightly rubbed his shoulder, “It’s not exactly unheard of…But, it’s not what I would have chosen for you.”

Louis winced, “You wanted me to wed Mary McKinley.” 

“I did,” She easily agreed. 

“I didn’t –” Louis’ brows furrowed together as he pushed himself from his mother’s side. He slowly shook his head from side to side, “I mean it’s not as if I _chose_ to have romantic feelings for him. It just…” He flailed his hands slightly, “It just kind of happened.” 

“You mean to tell me that he did not push you into it?” She folded her hands in her lap and quirked an eyebrow. “After eighteen years without inclination towards men, I hardly believe that this happened on a whim.” 

“I haven’t had an inclination towards anybody before I met him!” Louis floundered, his chest slightly heaving at what her words implied. He cut his hands through the air, “No woman _or_ man ever caught my attention.”

Johanna was quiet for a moment, her eyes unwavering as she stared back at Louis’ confounded expression. Eventually, she let out a soft sigh and raked her fingers through the knots of her hair. 

“You will find someone else, Louis. You’re only nineteen.” 

Louis’ eyes hardened as he folded his arms over his chest, “So, nineteen is too young to know that I’ve found someone I love, but not too young to get married to someone I have no interest in?” He let out a disbelieving groan, “Is that really what you are telling me?” 

“Darling, you can’t possibly expect me to give you my blessing on this.”

“Why?” Louis shot back, residual traces of sadness slowly ebbing away into frustration. He thumbed Harry’s headscarf, “Is it because he’s a man or because he’s a pirate?” 

Joanna rubbed her hands over her face, sounding as drained as Louis felt, “Both.”

“He’s not a bad person,” Louis feebly muttered. 

“Who isn’t?” 

Louis and Johanna looked towards the entrance to see Charlotte loitering in the doorway with a cup of tea, steam visibly rolling over the lip of the porcelain cup. She was looking between the two, obviously trying to gauge what had transpired in her absence. 

“Harry,” Louis honestly answered, his face visibly softening in front of his younger sister. 

Charlotte slowly walked towards the bed and passed the cup to Louis. She hesitated for a moment, climbing onto the mattress when Johanna didn’t immediately shoo her away. Louis resolutely stared at the steaming liquid, slightly tilting the cup from side to side. 

“You care for him?” Charlotte quietly asked, the question sounding more like statement to Louis’ ears. 

“Aye,” Louis nodded. 

Johanna’s eyes snapped towards him, “That is not how you will speak in this household.” 

Louis stuttered for a moment, a bit of tea slopping over the lip of the cup and onto his hand. He hissed at the slight burn, wiping the residual liquid onto his tunic. 

“You need fresh clothes,” Johanna reprimanded, pushing herself out of the bed and towards his wardrobe. She opened the heavy drawers and began to desperately rifle through the assortment of clothes, “I’ll have Ellen run you a bath and get you clean linens. You barely even look like yourself with all of that grime.” 

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to wash away what happened?” Louis painfully asked, his voice no more than a whisper. 

She paused her motions, hands frozen around a flimsy tunic. Slowly, she turned around, almond eyes sad as she looked back at Louis. 

“Because this…” She drawled out as she gestured towards Louis, “This is not who you are.” 

Louis’ jaw clenched as he felt his heart constrict in his chest, “You said no matter what had happened, your feelings wouldn’t change towards me.” 

“I still love –”

“No!” Louis jerkily shook his head as he cut her off. He blindly passed his cup of tea to Charlotte as he clambered off his bed, “Don’t tell me you love me and ask me to change who I am in the same breath!” 

“ _This_ is not who you are!” She shouted, her calm resolve splintering with her words. 

“If you took one moment, you would see that it is!” Louis yelled back as his neck flushed an angry red. 

Joanna scoffed, “You leave home for a few months and suddenly, you are infatuated with men and think you are a pirate?” She tossed the fresh tunic at him, “That is not the real world, Louis. That is not how I raised you.” 

“It’s not men!” Louis bellowed, throwing the tunic onto the ground. “It’s one man, just one!” 

“A pirate,” She spat back, her arms crossed. 

“And a damn good one at that!” 

“Louis,” Charlotte warned. 

“No, Charlotte,” Louis waved her off. He stepped towards his mother, “Harry is a good man who happens to be just as good of a captain.” 

“I am not discussing this!” Johanna pointed her finger towards Louis. “This is not up for a discussion.” 

“Because you won’t even try to understand how I feel,” Louis gritted out from behind his teeth. 

“You would rather be off gallivanting with _him_ than here with your family?” She sneered, her voice turning an ugly tone that Louis had never heard before. 

“That was the plan until you chased him away.” 

Johanna’s smirk slipped off her face the moment the words were out of Louis’ mouth. She recoiled away from him, her eyes glistening in the reflection of the rising sun. Louis’ anger deflated, hopelessness creeping back into his veins as she walked out of the room without another word. 

“Bit harsh.” 

Louis turned towards Charlotte who still had the cup clasped between her hands. He sighed and settled back in his bed, his back resting against the headboard. Charlotte handed him the tea and followed suit, slotting their sides together. Louis sipped from the cup, humming as the familiar taste filled his mouth. 

“You didn’t mean for us to know you were coming, did you?” 

“No.” 

Charlotte tugged on her bottom lip with her forefinger and thumb, slightly nodding her head. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Louis mumbled against the lip of porcelain. He lowered his tea and lolled his head back, “This wasn’t meant to happen.” 

“Which part?” Charlotte asked, an evident smirk in her voice. Louis turned towards her to see that she was definitely biting back a grin. She rolled her eyes, “The part where you got captured? The part where you fell in love? The part when you fell in love with a man? Or…The part where you ended up back here?” 

Louis snorted, “All of it.” 

“He’s handsome.” 

“What?” 

“Harry,” Charlotte elaborated. She rolled her fingers through the air, “He’s handsome, I don’t blame you.” 

“He is,” Louis quietly agreed, willing the flush against his cheeks to disappear. 

“So…” Charlotte gently nudged her elbow against Louis’ side. 

Louis’ brows furrowed, “So….What?”

She pinched his arm, “What are you going to do about it?” 

“I don’t exactly have any options here, Charlotte,” Louis huffed out. 

“You do,” She urged. 

“Alright,” Louis rolled his eyes and swallowed another mouthful of tea. He pointedly raised his eyebrow, “Tell me all about my options, I am dying to know.” 

“You stay here, get married, die miserable,” Charlotte scrunched her nose in distaste. 

“Tempting,” Louis scoffed. 

“ _Or_ ,” She lowered her voice to add a bit of sincerity to her tone. “You chase after him.” 

“How do you expect me to do that?” Louis hesitantly murmured as a tinge of hope crept into his heart. “I – I wouldn’t even know how to get to him…He’s probably long gone by now.” 

Charlotte thwacked him upside the head, “You act as if we don’t live along a port. A port full of ships.” 

“What was that for?!” Louis cringed, rubbing the side of his head where she smacked him. 

“You were being irrational,” Charlotte rolled her eyes. 

“Alright,” Louis huffed, “Let’s pretend that I was able to get on someone’s ship…Mother would never allow it.” 

_Thwack._

“Stop hitting me!” 

“Stop being a complete twat!” 

“Charlotte!” Louis’ jaw dropped. 

His sister looked proud of herself, shrugging her shoulder slightly, “What?”

“Mind your language,” Louis hissed, his façade breaking with a fond smile. 

“You deserved it,” Charlotte giggled. 

Louis grumbled, “Don’t think I did.” 

“You love him?” 

“What?” 

“Do you love Harry?” Charlotte said, overly enunciating each word. 

Louis nodded, “I do.” 

“You don’t need permission from anybody to be in love, Louis,” Charlotte earnestly said, the words unintentionally creating butterflies in Louis’ stomach. She shrugged, “Mother will get over it…Eventually. Until then, you need to go after him.” 

“When did you get smart?” Louis teased, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. 

“I’ve always been the smart one,” She easily said, pushing her weight into Louis’ side. “So…Have you told him you love him?” 

“Uh…” Louis scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head from side to side. “More or less.” 

“Idiot,” Charlotte scoffed under her breath. She gripped his shoulder and lightly shook him, “You have to tell him how you feel. Obviously, he feels the same way since he let you go.” 

Louis incredulously laughed, “You don’t even know him!”

“So?” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “A person with impaired vision could still see that he loves you.” 

“Should I tell her I’m leaving?” 

“Do you want to be stopped?” 

“No.”

“Then don’t.” 

Louis sighed, “I don’t want her to hate me because of this.” 

“I’ll be here to make sure she doesn’t,” Charlotte gently said. 

“If I wrote her a letter…” Louis hesitantly tugged on his bottom lip, “Would you give it to her? After I leave?” 

Charlotte nodded, “Yes.” 

“Thank you,” Louis murmured as he pulled her into a hug. 

“Love you,” Charlotte murmured into the crook of his neck. 

He nodded, squeezing her tightly, “Love you, too.” 

They pulled back, both letting out an embarrassed laugh before Charlotte unceremoniously pushed him out of bed. 

“Best be quick,” She winked as she hovered over him. 

“Right,” Louis huffed as he climbed off the ground. 

A trill of nerves and excitement thrummed through his body as he hurried through the room. He grabbed his rucksack from the wardrobe and began to shove a handful of clean tunics into the bag. A small part of him was relieved to have gone home just for the sake of having a few more bits of clothing. He lugged out his chest underneath the bed and began to stuff valuables into the satchel, schillings, gold, jewels, alike. 

Louis paused when he stood back upright, his fingers hesitating over the gold buttons of his vest. With a sense of finality, he thumbed the buttons free and tugged off the vest his father has bought him. He let it drop to the floor and then turned to grab a long blue coat from his wardrobe.

“Here.” 

Louis turned on his heel, softly smiling as he took the offered headscarf from Charlotte’s hands. He reached behind his head and knotted the material, feeling as if it was a symbolic sign of his future. This time when he was leaving Kensington, it wouldn’t be by force. He was _choosing_ to go. 

“You look like a proper pirate,” Charlotte grinned, her hand gesturing from the hilt of his sword towards the scarf. “Surprisingly enough,” she cocked her head to the side, “It suits you.”

“I’ve had a few lessons,” Louis blushed, turning around to grab a piece of parchment. 

Resting against the top of his desk, Louis briefly hesitated before he began writing out a farewell letter to his mother. His stomach was in knots with each stroke of ink, hoping that he could convey that him leaving didn’t lessen the feelings he had for his family. But, that the feelings he felt for Harry, and the rest of the crew, were too overwhelming for him to remain rooted in Kensington. It wasn’t long, the script turning a bit messy as he hurried through each word. As he signed the letter, he hoped that one day she would understand. 

He rolled it into a scroll and handed it to Charlotte, “You’ll look after her, right?” 

“I will,” She nodded, taking the parchment from him. “Promise.” 

Louis stiffly nodded and ducked down to kiss her on the forehead. 

“I’ll write to you, all of you.” 

“You better,” She sniffed, the back of her hand wiping at her eyes. 

Louis bit back his own watery laugh, “Promise.” 

Shouldering his bag, Louis strode towards the windowpane. He swung a leg over the windowsill and gave one last look around the room. Charlotte faintly waved at him, the scroll in her hand and a small smile quirking her mouth. Louis let out a sigh as he waved back, taking one glimpse towards the vest on the floor before he slipped outside.

****

“Sir?” Louis cleared his throat, his hand hesitantly resting on a man’s shoulder. 

The squat man in question turned around, nearly knocking Louis over with his protruding elbow. Louis jumped back a step and met surprised eyes. His meaty hands were wound with thick rope that was attached to a caravel ship. It was smaller than The Siren’s Scream and far less impressive in general terms. 

“Can I help you, son?” 

Louis grimaced because the other man couldn’t have been more than ten years his senior. He tightly nodded, “I’m looking for passage.” Lightly, Louis jingled his small pouch of schillings, effectively gaining the other man’s interest, “I was hoping that you would be able to help me out.”

“Passage where?” His eyes suspiciously narrowed as he caught sight of Louis’ sword. 

“Île de la Tortue,” Louis quietly said, his eyes carefully wandering around their surroundings. 

The other man took a clear step away from him, “You mean, Tortuga?” 

“Aye,” Louis nodded, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He noticed a few people dawdling around them, pairs of eyes trained on him. 

The other man shook his head, his cheeks becoming ruddy as he huffed out, “M’not sailing anywhere near pirate infested waters.” 

“Keep your voice down,” Louis warned, when he felt someone stepping closer towards him. 

As the man opened his mouth to retort, someone roughly gripped the scruff of Louis’ neck. He squawked as he was yanked backwards, his pupils blown out in disbelief. He nearly lost his footing, only recovering because a hand was balanced on the center of his back. 

“Sorry about that, my brother ‘ere was just messing about.” 

Louis’ nose scrunched as he shoved the arm off of him, whipping his head around to see a woman standing behind him with buttery topaz eyes. She stood a few inches shorter than him with a petite build and cropped brown hair that brushed the top of her shoulders. She narrowed her eyes and flicked her eyebrows, effectively silencing him without words. 

“That’s your brother?” The man asked, doubt plaguing his tone. 

“He is,” The woman roughly patted Louis on the back. She mock lowered her voice, “He’s a bit disturbed, you see? Rambling about pirates ever since the incident here few months back.” She pouted her bottom lip and looked up towards Louis, “Poor thing hasn’t gotten over it.” 

“You better keep an eye on him,” the man suspiciously said as his eyes darted between the two of them. “Piracy is no joking matter.”

The woman flourished her hand over her heart, “I _fully_ agree, sir.”

“What are you doing?” Louis gritted out. 

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing, princess?” She flicked his ear and continued to pull him away from the other merchants. “M’ saving your sorry arse from the hangman’s noose.”

Louis yanked his arm from her hold and cocked his hands on his hips, “What do you know of it?” 

She rolled her eyes mirrored his stance, “You can’t go ‘round asking to be taken to Tortuga.” 

“Why not?” Louis shrugged, floundering at her unimpressed stare. “I mean…I offered him schillings.”

“Which I’ll be taking,” she chirped, quickly plucking the sachet from Louis’ fingertips. 

Louis’ jaw drooped, “What the fuck!”

She opened the bag and peered inside, grinning when she saw the amount. 

“This will do,” she nodded, turning on her heel and scampering down the dock. 

“Wait, what?” Louis called after her, quickly catching up to the woman. He gripped her bicep and pulled her back, “What’re you doing?! Give that back!” 

“I’m taking you to Tortuga,” she answered as if it was obvious. 

Louis gaped at the small woman, “I – I didn’t ask you to!” 

“Aye,” She shrugged as she walked towards a schooner tied at the end of the dock. The woman hoped aboard, turning around to gesture for Louis to follow, “Yer obviously desperate to get there and I ‘aven’t been in a while. So…I’ll take you.” 

Louis stopped beside the ship, his hands slightly flailed out, “Who even are you?!”

A dimple pressed into the corner of her mouth, “Jules.”

“Jules?” Louis cocked his head to the side. 

“Before you ask,” Jules indignantly huffed, “Aye, it’s my real name. _Not_ a horrible pirate pun.” 

Louis barked out a sharp laugh, the skin by his eyes crinkling, “Fair enough.” 

He climbed on the ship and looked around the small deck, slightly frowning when he didn’t see any deck hands. 

“You can sail this alone?” 

“Aye,” She nodded, winding her way to the front of the small ship. She turned on her heel and threateningly pointed a finger at him, “And if you try anything on me, I’ll have that pretty little head of yours mounted on the front of me ship.” 

“Trust me,” Louis held up both his hands, “You’re not my type.” 

Jules peered at him, giving him a once over before snorting. 

“Figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis quickly asked. 

“M’ not your type because you like men,” She easily said. Jules patted him on the cheek, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” 

“How – But, I,” Louis stammered, his heart lodged is throat. 

Jules peered at him, “I’m not judging you so…You can quit yer worrying.” 

“How’d you know?” Louis weakly asked. 

She pointedly gave him a once over, “You cocked your hip, flicked your wrist, and rolled your eyes at me within one sentence.” 

“I don’t flick my wrist,” Louis indignantly huffed. 

“Aye, you do,” She cackled. 

Louis found himself biting back a grin, slightly endeared by the spritely woman. He helped her lower the main mast and then tilted his head to the side. 

“So…What’s your type, then?” 

Jules snorted, “A man who can laugh as much as he can drink.” 

Louis bit the inside of his cheek as blue eyes and blonde hair immediately came to mind. He waggled his eyebrows, “I might have someone like that.” 

“Oh yeah?” She smirked. 

“Yeah,” Louis nodded. He set his bag down on the deck and ruffled his fingers through his fringe, “If he’s still at Tortuga when we get there, I’ll introduce you.” 

Jules nodded and turned away, but not before Louis caught the pleased look on her face. He stood back and watched as she went to work, easily flitting over the deck as she led the ship from the docks. Louis found himself being part impressed and part jealous with how natural it all seemed to be to her.

“How long have you been sailing?” Louis asked once they were a few leagues from shore. 

Her nimble fingers were wrapped around the spokes of the wheel as she squinted in concentration, “’Bout six years now? Maybe seven?” 

Louis’ eyes widened, “How old were you when you when you started?” 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to ask a woman’s age?” She grinned, eyes darted between the horizon and Louis. 

“Oh, right,” Louis stumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Apologies.” 

Jules rolled her eyes, “It was a joke, uh…Hold on, what’s yer name?” 

“Louis.” 

“Well, _Louis_ ,” She grinned as she emphasized his name, “I left when I was fifteen.” 

“What have you been doing since then?” Louis gently pressed. He gestured towards the empty deck, “You sail alone so I don’t exactly believe you to be a pirate.” 

“I’m not exactly…” Jules tilted her head from side to side. “I did steal this ship, though. So, I suppose technically, aye, I am.” 

“But, what else?” Louis asked, sitting down and resting his back against the ship’s siding. 

“I sail to ports and people pay me to do tattoos.” 

Louis perked up at that, “Really?” 

Jules nodded, “Really.” 

“I’ve been thinking about getting one done,” Louis admitted as he rubbed his forearm. 

She beamed at that, “Really? What were you thinking?” 

“A dagger.” 

“Original,” Jules teased. 

“Shut it, you,” Louis jutted out his leg to kick at her ankle. He cocked his chin upwards and snuffed, “There’s actually a very good reason behind it.” 

“Right…” She drawled out. 

“I’m being serious!” Louis cackled. 

“What’s the reason?” 

“So…There’s a guy,” Louis flushed as he started, feeling as if he was Charlotte rambling on about some boy. 

Jules cooed, “Do tell.”

“And he has a rose tattoo. Well, roses are kind of his _thing_ ,” Louis privately smiled as he instinctively thumbed his headscarf. He shook his head, “Anyways, his emblem is a rose and dagger.” 

Louis was thrown onto his side from a sudden jerk of the ship. 

“What the fuck!” He yelled as the ship tailspinned. 

“Buggering shit, fuckin’ twatter son of a bastard,” Jules spewed out as she quickly regained a firm grip on the spokes. 

Louis’ eyes were wild as he stared at her, his body fully sprawled out along the deck. 

“Harry Styles?!” Jules practically yelled at him, her pupils blown. “You want a complimentary tattoo with, Harry?!” 

Louis held onto his stomach, his heartrate still rabbiting in his neck. “Jules, watch the goddamn horizon!” 

“Answer me!” She shot back, her eyes remaining on the water as she blindly kicked his foot. 

“Aye, Harry,” Louis huffed out. 

“I did most of his tattoos,” She proudly grinned. A shit-eating grin split her face when she tagged on, “Counting the rose.” 

Louis carefully stood to his feet, “Honestly?” 

“Aye,” Jules nodded. She peeked a look at him, “I would do the dagger, y’know, if you were being serious.” 

“You would?” 

“Sure,” Jules shrugged. She reached into her black coat and pulled out Louis’ sachet of coins and shook it, “I’ve got enough of your gold already.” 

Louis bit back a grin as his thumb repeatedly traced over his forearm, “Alright, yeah.” 

****

“No, no, no, no, no –”

“I haven’t even touched you yet, Lou.” 

Louis grimaced as Jules perched over his arm, ready to permanently brand his skin. 

“I feel faint,” Louis whimpered, his eyes pinched shut. 

“Stop fidgeting or it will look like a cock.” 

Louis peeked his right eye open to see her smirking at him. 

“That’s not funny,” He mumbled. 

Jules rolled her eyes, “Are we doing this or not?” 

“Uh...” 

“Cos if we’re not, I’m reeling me anchor back up and we can keep going.” 

Louis shook his head, “No, yeah, I’m ready. I can do this.” 

“Aye?” 

“Aye.” 

****

“It hurts.” 

Jules snorted, wiping away the residual blood off his arm, “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt by the time we dock.” 

“When is that?” 

“Tomorrow night.” 

“Hmm.”

“What…Don’t you like it?”

“I love it.”

Louis stared down at the dagger that was eternally inked on his skin. Even though it hurt a ridiculous amount and Jules had to slap him a few times to make him stop sniffling, it was worth it. It matched the size of Harry’s rose tattoo and Louis knew that if they were to line up their arms exactly, they would line up. 

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Louis mumbled under his breath, half hoping that Jules didn’t hear him. 

He slightly flinched when she touched his shoulder, immediately relaxing when she didn’t move to slap him or stab him with another needle. 

“He’s going to love it.” 

Louis bit back a pleased grin, his eyes still locked on the slightly inflamed skin. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous to see Harry. After all, Harry was the one to leave him behind at the manor. There was a possibility that he had misread every signal that Harry had thrown at him and that made his stomach feel queasy. 

“Why the frown?” 

“Oh,” Louis shook his head, fighting to quirk his lips upwards. “It’s nothing.” 

“Louis,” Jules sighed, moving her hand to lightly pat his shoulder, “We’ve got another day just us in the middle of the ocean…We might as well talk about whatever happened.” She lightly shook him, her lips twisting into a smirk, “Not like we have anything better to do.” 

“Right,” Louis snorted. 

He helped Jules reel the anchor out of the water and then sat back against deck, his hands folded over his gut as he stared at the star speckled sky. Jules took her post by the wheel and patiently waited for Louis to start speaking. As a gentle breeze pushed over him, Louis took a deep breath, and told their story. His voice was quiet against the lull of the ocean as he told her about the night he was taken, admitting how scared he was. She nodded and interjected comments from time to time, encouraging him to continue. Louis told he her about how infuriating Harry was all while a fond grin slipped over his mouth. 

“He sent you to the brig?” Jules cackled, her laughter light airy as is filtered into the night sky. 

Louis grinned, “He did, the prick.” 

Eventually, he told her about the subtle changes between them. His voice was quiet as he explained that his feelings began to plunder deeper than he had ever anticipated. He spoke of his first Tortuga visit, spurring her to reveal that she knew Nick from years past. Louis blushed through the story of their grotto, leaving little to the imagination due to her no-so-gentle prodding. When he got to talking about what happened at the manor, his brightened mood had all but disappeared. 

“And then he left…” 

Louis’ voice caught off, his eyes becoming misty as the night prior rolled through his thoughts. He blinked back the tears that pooled, urging them to diminish. The throb in his arm had soothed into a faint sting, constantly reminding him that he chose to tether himself to Harry. Regardless of what was to come from seeing him again, Harry was, and would be, a part of him. Louis hadn’t decided if it was a romantic gesture or on the verge of pathetic since he hadn’t even voiced to Harry that he was in love with him. 

“He did that _for_ you, though.” 

Louis craned his neck to see Jules thoughtfully looking at him. He shrugged and looked away. 

“I hope so.” 

“After all that…There’s no way that he doesn’t feel the same, Lou.” 

“I really love him,” Louis murmured, letting the four words hang in the air between them. 

He imagined the sentiment drifting over the cerulean waves, searching its way through the night until they brushed against the shell of Harry’s ear. By then they wouldn’t be anything more than a dance of a whisper. Just a breath of a soft caress against his ivory skin to let him know that Louis chose him, that he wanted him. 

****

Louis continuously ran his fingers over the dagger as Tortuga filled the horizon. 

“I can’t tell if you think it’s gonna rub off or if you’re being a sap,” Jules snorted towards his left. 

“Probably both,” Louis monotonously answered. 

Jules lightly shoved his side, “Alright?” 

Louis shrugged as a crease formed along his forehead, “What if he’s not there?” He roughly scrubbed his hand over his face, “He might already be gone.” 

“Won’t know ‘til we’re there.” 

He nodded and shuffled towards the bow of the ship, eyes focused on the small island. As they got closer, he was able to make out the slew of docked ships. He frantically scanned the different masts, searching for the emblem that he had memorized to every precise detail. Panic flooded his body as he continued to search without any familiarity. 

“Louis!” 

He whipped his head backwards to see Jules pointing towards the right end of the port. Louis followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes as he raked over the different ships. His jaw slackened and his legs nearly gave out from under him when he recognized the bow of The Screaming Siren. 

“Oh my god,” he exhaled on a weak laugh, his throat constricting as he processed that Harry was still there. 

Jules navigated the ships towards the docks, anchoring them without much help from Louis. Not that he would have been very useful as his weight continuously shifting from foot to foot, eyes locked onto the plank of boards. The moment that they docked, Louis was bounding off the ship without another thought. 

“Hold on a minute, princess!” 

“Jules,” Louis groaned, his hands gestured towards the direction of the taverns. 

She rolled her eyes and tossed him his forgotten rucksack, a smirk tugging the corner of her mouth. Louis had the slight decency to look bashful as he shouldered the bag. Jules hopped over the banister and tossed a schilling towards the dock master who politely nodded in return. With Louis’ hand wrapped around Jules wrist, he lugged them towards the sea of lit taverns. 

Similar to his first visit of Tortuga, everything was erupted into brash sounds. Except this time, Louis didn’t allow himself time to have a lazy gander around the streets. There was a fire burning in the deepest burrows of his chest and it wouldn’t be staved until he found Harry. He felt frantic as they ducked into tavern after tavern, eyes raking over the crowds to see any form of familiarity from the faces. 

Louis was out of breath when he peeked into the second to last tavern on the right, his chest heaving with every labored intake of air. His pupils shot wide when he saw a familiar head of blonde hair. Unceremoniously, Louis dragged Jules with him, pushing the slew of men and women aside. 

“Niall!” 

He watched as Niall immediately perked his head upwards and away from his mug, his neck snapping towards Louis. There was a large crash in the tavern as the mug slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor, pieces of glass ricocheting across the floorboards. Louis didn’t think twice before he let go of Jules and plowed into Niall with outstretched arms. 

Niall immediately wrapped Louis into a bone-crushing hug, “Louis! You buggerin’ cunting bastard, I thought you stayed back?!”

Louis slightly pulled back to get a look at him, immediately regretting it when Niall punched him in the shoulder. He crouched over, hand grasping the sore muscle as he panted out, “What is it with people punching me?!” 

“What’re ye doing here?” Niall asked, blatantly overlooking Louis’ grimace of pain. 

“I need to find Harry,” Louis rushed out as he looked over the tavern, searching out a familiar head of curls. 

Niall awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “He’s not ‘ere, mate.” 

Louis’ brows pulled together, “What do you mean he’s not here? He _has_ to be here.” 

“I mean he’s not on the island,” Niall shook his head. A frown tugged his lips downwards as he quietly tacked on, “He hasn’t left his cabins since he came back from Kensington.”

“What?” Louis practically whimpered. “Has anyone been looking after him? Is he alright?”

“Are ye honestly asking if he’s alright after you left?” Niall cocked his eyebrow, his countenance blatantly unimpressed. 

“I – I didn’t,” Louis shook his head, feeling overwhelmed as his mind short-circuited. “I didn’t leave him…”

Niall sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “He didn’t tell anyone what ‘appened...Just climbed back aboard and told me to set sail.” He hesitantly shuffled his feet against the ground, “But, uh…Lou, he didn’t look right.”

Louis could feel his heart slowly splinter as Niall continued. The visual of Harry looking back at him from outside the manor permanently ingrained into his memory. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why it was surprising to him that Harry wasn’t okay. After all, Harry had told him that he was his other swallow. Regret and guilt weighed down on him that he had even contemplated Harry was using him for the letters. 

_You shouldn’t have let him go._

He roughly shook his own head and met Niall’s concerned gaze, “He’s on the ship, though?” 

“Aye,” Niall quickly nodded. He narrowed his eyes as he looked around the bar, “Gemma’s ‘round here doing business for him.”

“Right,” Louis nodded, taking a step backwards to head to the ship. He bumped into someone and immediately jerked to the side, rushing out, “Shit, apologies!” 

Jules gave him a tight wave as she smirked, “I know I’m a bit small, but no need to step all over me, princess.” 

“Who’s this?” Niall chirped, ducking his head to this side to see around Louis. 

“Oh, right,” Louis grinned as he put his hands on Jules’ shoulders and gently pushed her towards Niall. He quickly gestured between the, “Niall, this is Jules. She likes to drink, harass me, and take long walks on the beach.” 

Jules stomped on his foot, “Bastard.” 

“I like all of those things,” Niall beamed. He gestured towards the bar as he hopefully asked, “Would ye like a glass of wine? A pint?” 

“Try whisky,” She smirked, taking a hesitant step towards Niall. 

Louis rolled his eyes, “You lot will get along just fine.” 

“Don’t you have a captain to tend to?” Jules turned towards him, cocking her head to the side in a silent gesture for him to get going and leave them alone. 

“Aye,” Louis huffed out, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze before he sprinted out of the tavern. 

His legs burned as he ran back towards the docks, his chest aching as he veered towards The Screaming Siren. Pebbles crunched under the soles of his boots and Louis mumbled out blank apologies as he elbowed a pirate to the side. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Harry. He didn’t have a plan for when he saw him, the only thought rotating through his mindset was that he just needed to make sure the other man was alright. 

Louis halted to a stop by the plank of wood that extended from the ship to the dock. He took one step onto the board and was immediately met with Zayn dropping down in his path. Louis reared back, nearly tumbled off as the pirate materialized out of nowhere. He bowed over, hand over his thrumming heart as he took a few rough breaths. 

“Fucks sake,” Louis huffed out. 

“Tomlinson?”

Louis raised his head and slightly shrugged, “Well…Obviously.” 

Zayn suspiciously watched him with his arms tightly folded over his chest. His amber eyes raked over Louis as if he was sizing him up.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I have to see Harry,” Louis quickly responded, desperation evident as he looked over Zayn’s shoulder. 

“Why would I let you do that?” Zayn lowly asked, his drawl elongated as he pulled his sword from his sheath. He cocked his head to the side, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the worst thing that happened to him.” 

Louis gaped, “I didn’t do anything wrong here!” He ducked to the side when Zayn slashed his sword between them. Instinctively, Louis pulled out his own blade, “Just let me explain.”

“In all my years,” Zayn swiped at him again, nearly missing Louis’ throat, “I have never seen him like this.” 

Their swords met between them when Louis took a step forward, meeting Zayn’s blow halfway. There was a sharp bite of metal against metal, Louis’ eyes frantically searching over Zayn’s hardened expression. 

“Harry _chose_ to leave me there,” Louis gritted out, his back foot slightly slipping off the plank. “I didn’t ask for that!” 

“You shouldn’t have let him,” Zayn kneed him in the gut, his voice as harsh as the dig. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have stayed.” 

Louis quickly recovered from the blow, maneuvering to the side when Zayn attempted to punch him in the gut. 

“I know!” Louis yelled as he ducked below a swipe of the pirate’s sword. He swiftly kicked his leg out and knocked into Zayn’s knee, effectively toppling him over onto the dock. “That’s why I’m here to fix it,” he grunted out as sprinted up the makeshift bridge. 

He landed on the main deck and immediately made a direct line towards Harry’s cabins, seeing the familiar glow of candlelight seeping from beneath the doors. There was a rough tug against his hair, pulling a pained groan from Louis’ mouth as Zayn jerked him backwards. Zayn held his dagger against Louis’ throat and tightened his hold. 

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Zayn sickly murmured against the shell of Louis’ ear. 

“Just – Fuck,” Louis gasped as he dropped his sword and held up his hands. “I have to tell him something. Do whatever you want to me after, but I _need_ to tell him.” 

Zayn hummed in consideration, “And what do you need to tell him, savvy?” 

“I love him.” 

The deck filled with a compilation of ragged breaths as Zayn went rigid. Louis’ eyes were pinched shut and he was roughly breathing in through his nose, internally begging whatever god there was, that he wouldn’t die like that. Zayn deftly turned him around, his eyes searching through Louis’, his fist remaining locked in his hair. 

“Are you playing me?” Zayn quietly but firmly asked. 

Louis minutely shook his head, “I’m not.” 

After a moment, Zayn’s hold lessened and he took a step back. He threateningly pointed his index finger at Louis’ chest, “If he wants you gone, I can promise you that there will be something worse than sharks in store for you, Tomlinson.”

“Noted,” Louis exhaled. 

Louis grabbed his sword off the deck and slid it into its sheath, quickly moving towards the double doors. His hand rested on the doorknob, fingers shaky as they hesitantly pushed the door open. Everything had pent up to that moment and Louis didn’t know how he could possibly brace himself for what was in store. Taking one step into the cabin, Louis’ took in his surroundings. His jaw slackened and his knees nearly gave out when he looked across the room.

_“Harry.”_


	9. Chapter 9

The cabin had transfigured into an unrecognizable place. Long gone was the comfort of rose oil and soothing temperateness. No, that aura Harry had built was demolished by a stringent smell of rum and the presence of cracked bottles. The table Louis had spent hours sitting at, was tossed on its side, precious documents strewn in its wake. Jewels were carelessly lobbed across the floorboards as if they were thrown in a fit of angst. It looked like a monsoon had plundered the space, ripping everything in its path to shreds and then hurling them onto the floor in its bellowing rage. 

Slumped in the middle of the mess he made, was Harry’s limp body. The soft tresses of his curls were ratted into a greasy halo against the floor. His plump lips parted and a shade paler than their usual flushed pigment as they let out uneven exhales. In the dim lighting, plum colored bruises were still visible underneath his shut eyes. Long limbs were curled inwards as if he had tried to disappear in the heart of the storm.

Louis shot across the room and roughly landed on his knees by Harry’s side. He hauled Harry’s upper body into his lap, knocking away the empty bottle of rum from his hand. With his heart hammering in stark contrast to Harry’s lucid pulse, Louis cradled Harry’s head in is shaking hands. Panic threatened to blind him when Harry didn’t respond, his body allowing itself to be moved but not giving any signs of awareness. 

“Harry,” Louis croaked out, his eyes stinging as tears blurred his sight.

He thumbed Harry’s sunken cheek and gently shook him, searching for any sight of consciousness. Harry’s head lolled backwards, the top knots of his vertebrae faintly cracking as the air bubbles popped. Louis blanched at the sound, instantly fisting his matted hair to keep him upwards. 

“Come on, Harry,” Louis said louder, determination seeping into his bones. Without thinking about it, he reared his hand backwards and roughly slapped Harry across the face, urging him on as he gritted out, “You’re not giving up on me now. C’mon, little swallow, let’s see those pretty green eyes.”

There was a moment of nothing but stagnant noise cowering into the space between them, Louis’ own heartbeat refusing to break through the silence as he waited for Harry to respond. 

Then, ever so slightly, Harry’s nose twitched. Louis practically sobbed in relief, his fingers delicately brushing over Harry’s clammy skin. He was vaguely aware that he was shaking as he pulled Harry impossibly closer against his chest, wanting to protect him from the self-embarked turmoil that drowned him. Louis faintly pinched the skin against his cheek, pulling a weak groan from the other man. 

“Little swallow,” Louis quietly murmured, this thumb pressing into the bottom of Harry’s chapped lip. 

Harry’s eyelashes fluttered before they drunkenly blinked open. His eyes were watery as they hazily stared back at Louis, brows pulled together as if he was trying to gauge if Louis was really there. He shifted to lift his fingers, gently pressing them against Louis’ lips. 

Louis sniffed back a wet laugh, “There you are.” 

It took a moment before Harry shook his head and slurred out, “Yuh’re not really ‘ere.” His face pinched as he let his fingers lamely slump from Louis’ lips. Harry curled into Louis’ stomach, mumbling something into his jacket that sounded like, “Not really ‘ere.” 

“I am,” Louis firmly said as he carded his fingers into Harry’s hair, wincing as the tendrils knotted around his digits. He scratched Harry’s skull, pulling a quiet whimper from the other man, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

When Harry incoherently mumbled in response, his body beginning to lax once more, Louis shook him. Harry pouted and peeked his eyes open again and if it wasn’t for the circumstances, Louis would have been endeared by his disgruntled state. As it was, Louis was still somewhere in panic mode where he needed to make sure Harry was going to be okay. 

Louis shifted Harry into a sitting position, his hands soothingly rubbing over his back, “I have some water in my bag, think you can drink some for me?”

Harry jerkily nodded, obviously still induced from the countless amount of alcohol he had consumed during the past two days. He toppled over and rested his head against Louis’ shoulder, his fingers faintly grabbing purchase against the lapels of Louis’ coat. 

“Alright,” Louis huffed out, his hand cupped around the back of Harry’s neck as he shrugged the satchel over his shoulder. He pulled out a leather water flask, flipping open the lid of the pouch. 

“C’mon, Harry,” Louis persuaded as he eased Harry’s head back. Harry sniffled and Louis nearly dropped the water when he saw the quiet stream of tears running down his ivory cheeks. “Need you to drink some water for me,” Louis choked out, urging his voice to remain as even as possible. 

Harry hiccupped as he nodded, tilting his head back when Louis held the lip of the flask to his mouth. Louis slowly tipped the pouch, carefully watching Harry’s reactions as he drank the water. Not wanting him to accidentally choke, Louis lowered it and waited for Harry’s throat to bob as he swallowed. 

“Do you want more?” Louis softly asked, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible. 

“N–No,” Harry muttered, tiredly shaking his head from side to side. 

Louis nodded, not wanting to push him, “Let me get you in bed, then.”

Harry didn’t respond, instead choosing to wrap his arms around Louis’ neck. Louis took that as his cue to move. Gingerly, he stood upwards, slightly stumbling when Harry lolled all of his weight onto him. Louis breathed out a laugh and secured his arm around Harry’s waist. He guided them towards the untouched bed and Louis briefly wondered if Harry had been refusing to sleep in it without him. The idea both elevated and sunk his heart, Louis not fully understanding how it was possible to feel both at once. 

Once he got Harry to stand by the side of the mattress, a frown tugged at the corner of his mouth when he realized that Harry was wearing the same clothing from when he left the manor, jacket and all. His creamy tunic was stained from remnants of splattered red wine and he looked a far cry from the man Louis knew him to be.

“Let’s get your jacket off,” Louis mumbled before he had begun to pull the material off Harry’s shoulders. 

Harry was quiet when Louis undressed him, his body languid as he attempted to keep his eyes open. Louis had to give it to him, he was doing his best not to fall back asleep as Louis tugged his trousers down. Louis pointedly looked away from Harry’s lower abdomen as he pulled the covers back on the mattress. 

Louis patted the bed, “Come on, H.” 

“No,” Harry shook his head, his body contradicting his words as he sat down on the mattress. He looped his fingers around Louis’ wrists, his eyes blinking back tears as he shook his head. “Gonna leave.” 

“What?” Louis’ bows pulled together as he gently cradled Harry’s neck. 

Harry shook his head more forcefully, “Yer gonna leave if I go tuh sleep.” 

Louis gaped at Harry’s open vulnerability, wide green eyes staring back at him with blatant distress. He vehemently shook his head when he stepped between Harry’s legs, pulling the other man against his chest as he hugged him. Louis pinched his eyes shut when Harry clung back, their bodies molding into one another. 

“I won’t leave you,” Louis whispered against the crown of Harry’s head. 

Harry curled his leg around Louis’ calf as his shoulders shook, tears dampening the front of Louis’ tunic. Louis only held him tighter, not daring to let go of the man he ardently loved. While he didn’t know what their future held, Louis was positive that right there was where he belonged. There would never be a moment where he didn’t want to have Harry wrapped around him, holding him close as the pace of heartbeats synced. Anything less could not possibly scratch the surface of being enough for him. 

“You came back to me,” Harry whispered, his voice raw. 

“Course I did,” Louis pressed a kiss against his temple and lightly shrugged, “You’re my other swallow.” 

Louis could feel the taught muscles along Harry’s body relax as his words blanketed them. Exhaustion weighed at every corner of his mind and he figured that Harry wasn’t better off. Wordlessly, he laid Harry down against the mattress. Louis quickly climbed in after him after chucking his own clothes onto the ground, tugging the duvet over their bodies. 

With Harry on his side, Louis slotted against his back. Their legs tangled with one another as Louis wrapped a protective arm around Harry’s middle. Harry gripped his arm and held his close as if he was still afraid that Louis would disappear once he woke up. Louis nosed against the skin along the back of Harry’s neck, gently pursing his lips to leave a trail of kisses. 

As both of their breathing began to even out, Louis closed his eyes. He was on the cusp of drifting into sleep when he heard Harry murmur one last time. His voice was low and nearly impossible to distinguish, but Louis still heard him. 

_“Don’t let me go.”_

****

When Louis woke up, Harry was still fast asleep. He had slightly rearranged himself during the course of the night, having rolled over so majority of his body rested on top of Louis. His body acted as a warm anchor on top of Louis’ chest, somehow managing to settle him even in his sleep. Louis lightly thumbed his jaw, selfishness overriding the fact that Harry needed rest. 

As he watched the slight rise and fall of Harry’s back, Louis came to an understanding that there was a slight shift in their relationship. It wasn’t monumental per say, or maybe it was. Louis hadn’t fully worked it out. Since the natural dichotomy of their relationship, from their ages to their status aboard, Louis never felt that Harry needed him. Sure, they evolved as equals during their last fortnight together, but Louis never suspected that Harry _needed_ him. 

He couldn’t pin point what action had created that shift, or if Harry didn’t realize it until they were apart, but it settled something inside of Louis. It wasn’t that he wanted Harry to be dependent on him, that wasn’t it at all. What it broiled down to was that Louis wasn’t alone in their relationship. They were equals who both wanted and needed each other. Louis hadn’t felt that way until he found Harry the previous night. 

Louis stopped his ministrations when he felt Harry shift his weight. He held his breath, unsure what affect it would have, but he did it anyways. Biting back a smile, Louis watched as Harry slowly blinked his eyes open. Confusion was the most evident of the compilation of emotions painted over his face. He immediately moved into a sitting position, his nose scrunching at the quick motion. 

“Louis?” Harry croaked, flinching at the state of his own voice. He looked down at his body and shook his head before their eyes met again, “What are you doing here?” 

“I take it you don’t remember much of last night?” Louis carefully said, pushing himself upwards to mirror Harry’s position. 

“I – Uh,” Harry stammered, his cheeks flushed as he looked at the state of his cabin. He fidgeted with his fingers in his lap, slightly shrugging, “Thought I dreamt it up.” 

“You didn’t.” 

Harry nodded to himself, internally mulling the statement over in his mind before he quietly mumbled, “Why did you come back?” 

Louis humorlessly laughed, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

A dimple carved its way into Harry’s cheek and Louis found himself immediately reaching out to press his thumb against it. Harry breathlessly laughed as he tuned into Louis’ palm, his lips pouting as he kissed the inside of his palm. Louis’ jaw slackened as Harry’s eyelashes fluttered, swooping the loveliest shadows over the tops of his cheeks. Louis heart thrummed inside his chest as the words pressed themselves out of his mouth. 

“I love you.” 

Harry stilled, his lips pursed in the middle of a kiss. Louis could feel his shaky exhale against his palm, a trill of shivers quickly running along his spine. He let his hand fall to Harry’s lap, watching every fraction of an inch that Harry moved. Harry’s head slowly cocked to the side as his eyes widened, his lips the color of ripened cherries as he pinched them between his teeth. Louis exhaled as the golden flecks that specked Harry’s eyes illuminated in the morning light. 

He crawled into Louis’ lap, immediately bracketing him with his thighs. Harry tenderly cradled Louis’ neck as he looked down on him. When Harry pressed the pad of his thumb against Louis’ bottom lip, Louis kissed it without a second though. He mewled when Harry hovered over his mouth with his own, leaving an inch of maddening space between them. 

“Say it again,” Harry whispered into Louis’ mouth. 

“I love you,” Louis repeated, his hands moving to grip the soft curve of Harry’s waist. 

That was all it took for Harry to close the space between their mouths. Harry’s lips were eager from the first touch, pressing harder as they slotted over Louis’. Louis found himself just as worked up, his fingers digging faint bruises into Harry’s hips in attempts to ground himself. He let Harry tilt his jaw the way he wanted, immediately opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Harry’s tongue was warm and slick as it dipped inside Louis’ mouth. He coaxed a whimper from the back of Louis’ throat when he flicked his tongue against the roof of Louis’ mouth. 

Harry pulled back just enough so they were panting into each other’s mouths. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him down against his lap as he ground his hips upwards. The prettiest keen poured out of Harry’s mouth and drenched Louis in the pinnacle of love and lust. 

“Do you have any idea?” Harry gasped, searing a kiss against Louis’ lips. “Any idea at all?”

“What’re you going on about?” Louis panted as he dug his nails down Harry’s back. “Idea about –”

“I love you,” Harry rushed out, easily cutting Louis off. 

Louis wetly gasped, “You – You love me?”

Harry nodded as he kissed Louis’ left cheek, “I will love you for the rest of my life.” Harry kissed his right cheek, “I will love you in my next life.” He pressed a feather light kiss to Louis’ nose, murmuring, “And any other possible life that could follow.” 

With his hands on either side of Louis’ cheeks, Harry locked their eyes. 

“Everything I am, every bit of my heart and soul…It’s all yours for the taking.” 

When words became incomprehensible and couldn’t possibly be enough, Louis un-wrapped his arms from Harry’s waist. He placed his left forearm in Harry’s lap and turned it upwards. Harry gasped as he immediately reached out towards the slightly raised skin, his fingers shaking as they hovered over the black ink. 

“You – You got,” Harry rambled, his eyes darting between the tattoo and Louis’s eyes. 

Louis weakly nodded, barely making out, “You can touch it.”

Harry’s fingers delicately ran over the dagger, his pupils blown out as he traced every detail. Louis felt as if his heart was about to implode, every emotion feeling as if it was too big for his body. Wordlessly, Harry lowered his arm and aligned the dagger with the rose. 

“Fuck,” Harry wetly gasped. 

The tattoos were perfectly sized with another, the designs so impeccably similar that Louis couldn’t imagine a world where they didn’t coincide. He leaned forward to duck his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, inhaling deeply as he tried to ground himself. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck, holding him close as they slightly rocked from side to side. 

“I missed my little dove,” Harry whispered into Louis’ skin. 

Louis kissed over Harry’s pulse point, “He missed you, too.”

“I love you.”

The three words sent a flush throughout Louis’ body and he didn’t think that there would be a time when they didn’t have an effect on him. He gently kissed the corner of Harry’s jaw, eliciting a low hum from the other man. 

With his lips against the shell of Harry’s ear, Louis whispered, “Show me.” 

Harry’s head lolled forward onto Louis’ shoulder, nodding into the bare skin before he gently nipped his teeth. Louis whimpered, immediately bucking his hips upwards from the slight sting. Harry lathed over the faint teeth marks with his tongue and then the plush of his lips. With a hand against Louis’ chest, Harry pushed him onto his back. 

Louis’ hands roamed over Harry’s abdomen, wanting to memorize every curve with the pads of his fingers. His eyes trailed lower towards the soft downy hairs that dusted over Harry’s groin. Harry hovered above him and Louis didn’t have to look to know Harry was following every calculated move. Harry eased Louis onto his stomach and pulled his hips upwards. Slotting himself between Louis’ calves, Harry rested back on his knees. 

Harry kissed the lowest knot of Louis’ spine, immediately pulling a moan from both himself and Louis in response. Louis bit his bottom lip and lowered his weight onto his forearms, fully exposing himself. Harry palmed Louis’ arse, squeezing the muscle and pulling his cheeks apart so he could breathe over Louis’ rim. 

“You know what else I missed?” Harry grumbled from low in his throat. 

Louis whimpered when he felt Harry exhale against his entrance. He shook his head into the crook of his arm as he wetly panted into his skin. Harry gently flicked his tongue over the tight muscle, instantly sending a tingle of heat along Louis’ spine. Harry plumped his lips and pressed a wet kiss against Louis’ rim, his own hums vibrating into Louis’ skin. 

“What?” Louis croaked, remembering that Harry was waiting on an answer. 

Harry pulled back and roughly gripped Louis’ arse, pushing his cheeks together before spreading them again so he could give Louis another kitten lick. 

“ _Honey_.”

A guttural moan tore Louis’ throat at the simple word. Harry immediately responded, messily rubbing his face back and forth as he slicked Louis with his tongue. Louis’ mouth was gaped open as Harry continued to elicit a slur of whimpers from him. His fingernails dug into the blanket when he felt Harry flatten his tongue and press long wet licks against his rim. 

“Oh, fuck,” Louis gasped, his right leg slightly kicking out from under him. He moaned as Harry circled his wrist around his ankle, pinning him in place. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he canted, mindlessly pushing his hips backwards as Harry licked him out. 

“So good,” Harry moaned. He reared back and spat against Louis’ rim, “Always taste so fucking good, honey.” 

Tears stung the corner of Louis’ eyes when Harry pointed his tongue, dipping the tip past his rim. Heat curled in the pit of his gut as Harry spread him wide, tonguing him deeper. Louis’ cock strained against his lower abdomen, precome beaded down the crown when the rest of his body went lax. 

Louis craned his neck and looked back between his legs. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw Harry had a hand curled around the base of his cock. His fist was lazily running up and down his length, his fingers curling over his cockhead every few strokes. Louis’ mouth watered as he watched precome blurt from Harry’s slit, immediately acting as slick for his fist. 

“Keep doing that,” Louis panted out, his eyes locked on the movement of Harry getting himself off as he licked him out. 

“Hmm?” Harry hummed, pulling back slightly. He kissed the cleft of Louis’ arse, “What was that?”

“Keep touching yourself,” Louis mewled, his hips automatically pressing back to get Harry’s mouth on him. His eyes rolled back when Harry spat against his entrance, spit trailing down his perineum. He vehemently tacked on, “Love when you touch yourself.”

“Yeah?” Harry bucked his hips forwards, deliberately thrusting into his hand for Louis’ view. He pressed this thumb against his slit, “You like knowing I get off from licking you out, honey?” 

Louis quickly nodded, any pretense of holding back was forgotten when he watched Harry work his hand over his cock. Harry arched his back and started to tongue Louis’ rim once more. Reaching between his leg, Louis fisted the base of his cock to stop himself from coming too soon. He felt a bit delirious when Harry began to fuck his tongue inside of Louis, the slick feeling of his tongue pressing into him on the verge of being too much. 

“M’gonna come,” Louis panted, his eyebrows pinched together from a mixture of concentration and overstimulation. 

Harry pulled back with a firm kiss against Louis’ rim. Louis’ eyes rolled back as Harry let out an almost animalistic growl, his fingers running over the slick between Louis’ cheeks. Lethargically, Louis pushed himself up onto his palms. He tossed his head back as he pressed his hips back onto Harry’s fingers. 

“Let me finger you open,” Harry practically begged, sounding as gone for it as Louis felt. He leaned over Louis’ back and lightly pressed his fingers against Louis’ mouth. He kissed between Louis’ shoulder blades, “ _Please_. Wanna make love to you, honey.” 

Louis mewled at the statement, the connotation of his words having an entirely different meaning now that the words had been said aloud. 

“Yeah,” Louis jerkily nodded, opening his lips so he could suck Harry’s fingers into his mouth. He sucked on them and pushed until the tip of Harry’s middle finger brushed the back of his throat. Louis weakly coughed and pulled back, his cheeks ruddy as he inhaled through his nose. 

Harry leaned back onto his haunches and brought his slick fingers against Louis’ entrance. Louis lolled his head forward when he felt Harry gently press his index finger past his rim. He deeply inhaled through his nose, only releasing the breath when he felt Harry’s knuckle brush against him.

“Love you like this,” Harry murmured, his free hand softly running along the curve of Louis’ spine. He crooked his finger and shallowly pumped his hand, “Absolutely perfect. Every bit.” 

Louis’ brows arched as his eyes shut, absorbing Harry’s words and the sensations his fingers were able to pull from Louis. He nearly buckled over when he felt Harry’s tongue lathing alongside his finger. The tip of his tongue licked where Harry’s finger dipped inside of Louis, the sensation sending flairs of heat from the base of Louis spine. A delicate whimper fell from his lips as Harry began to quickly pump his finger. 

“’Nother,” Louis slurred out once his hips began to meet every press of Harry’s knuckle. 

Harry was quick to oblige, slipping in his middle finger inside with the next ministration. Louis groaned as Harry opened him up by scissoring his fingers. Harry slowly spread his fingers and dipped his tongue between them, tonguing into him along with the glide of his fingers. 

“ _Fuck_!” Louis gritted out, his chest ballooning as Harry fucked into him with his tongue. 

Harry’s moans were muffled as he deeply pressed inside of Louis, his tongue flicking against Louis’ walls until he had rendered him into an incoherent mess. His spread fingers gave him perfect access with every pointed jab of his tongue. Louis felt himself on the brink of coming as Harry continued to quicken the pace of his mouth. 

“Ha – Harry, you gotta stop,” Louis gasped when his thighs began to shake. 

“So bloody responsive,” Harry mewled once he pulled back, his fingers remaining buried inside of Louis. He roughly mouthed at the dimples along Louis’ spine, “Always gonna want you like this.” 

He pumped his fingers and slightly crooked them so they would brush against _that_ spot. Louis jerked forward with a high pitched whine in response. Harry was quick to wrap his arm around Louis’ waist, pulling him back so he couldn’t squirm away. Harry continued to fuck him open, alternating between rubbing against his walls and spreading his fingers to loosen him. 

“Think you’re ready, honey?” 

Louis was nodding before the words had fully left Harry’ mouth. When Harry slowly pulled his fingers out, Louis slumped onto his front. He groaned as his sensitive cock pressed against the mattress. With a bit of help from the other man, Louis rolled onto his side. 

Harry lifted Louis’ leg and rested his ankle against the crook of his neck. Louis barely bit back a moan as Harry straddled his thigh and leaned forward, stretching Louis’ raised leg with the movement. Harry brought his hand to his mouth and spit into it, immediately lowering it to rub the slick over his cock. His cockhead brushed against Louis’ rim and that alone nearly had him coming. 

“Alright like this?” Harry panted out, one hand gripped at the base of his cock and the other wrapped around Louis’ raised thigh. 

Louis frantically nodded and pushed himself upwards to rest on his forearm. He reached out with his free hand to grip Harry’s thigh, the innate need to be touching him as much as possible overriding any other thought. He looked at Harry from underneath his eyelashes and felt his lips part when Harry started to push his hips forward. 

He inhaled as the head of Harry’s cock pressed past his rim, quickly enveloped by the heat of Louis’ walls. The stretch was overwhelming as Louis adjusted around him, every fiber of his being crackling between lust and pain. Louis faintly whimpered as Harry leaned over even more, opening him up further as his hips ground forwards. 

When Harry’s balls brushed against Louis’ stretched rim, they both released a shaky exhale. The pads of Louis’ fingers were digging to Harry’s thigh as he tried to relax his muscles. Harry’s pupils were blown wide as they bore into Louis, arm slightly shaking as he tried not to move inside of Louis. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered. 

Louis could feel as residual resistance was released from Harry’s words. It was almost terrifying how quickly his body wanted to drag Harry impossibly closer just from the use of three words. His eyes rolled back as he experimentally rocked his hips, sliding himself along Harry’s shaft. 

“I love you, too.” 

Harry sniffed back a wet laugh, turning his face into Louis’ calf to press a firm kiss into his skin. He nodded, as if to reassure himself that Louis felt the same way. Watching Harry’s reaction, Louis couldn’t imagine how he could potentially love him more than he did in that moment. There wasn’t any room left in his heart, every nook and crevice fully occupied with the unfurrowing adoration he felt for Harry. 

“C’mon,” Louis weakly urged. 

“Right,” Harry sniffed, his cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. He rolled his hips forward, “Sorry, I promise I’m not usually this emotional.” 

Louis’ brows pulled together, “Harry.” 

He lightly pulled back, wincing as Harry’s cock slipped out of him. Louis pushed Harry into a sitting position, immediately climbing into his lap. He raised himself and reached behind him, guiding Harry’s cock to press against his entrance. Harry’s hands soothingly rubbed along his ribs as he sunk down. When his arse was flush against Harry’s groin, he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and his legs around Harry’s waist. Every inch of their bodies were touching in the position and it was everything that the both of them needed. 

Louis leaned forward and kissed Harry, tilting his head to the side as he guided their mouths open. Harry parted his lips and slotted their tongues together, his movements languid as their kiss deepened. Louis swallowed a moan as he rolled his hips, feeling the head of Harry’s cock firmly press against his prostate. Harry’s hands slipped lower to cradle Louis’ arse, using his upper body strength to lift Louis up and down in deep increments. 

“I love you like this,” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the damp skin underneath Harry’s eyes, “Wouldn’t want you any other way.” 

Harry mewled in response, grinding his hips upwards as he pulled Louis down. There was a blinding sense of warmth that scourged Louis’ body from the movement. He tucked his head into the crook of Harry’s neck and gently nipped at the skin with his teeth. Harry repeated the movement, eliciting the same feeling from Louis, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck,” Harry exhaled as he cradled Louis against his chest and quickly leaned over. 

Louis’ thighs clung around Harry’s waist as he landed on his back, his breath knocking out of him as Harry bottomed out. Harry gripped Louis’ shoulders when he leaned back onto his knees, pulling Louis into every thrust of his hips. Louis’ eyes rolled back as Harry hit his spot on each thrust, dragging out a litany of moans from his mouth. 

“Gonna make you come, honey,” Harry gritted out between his teeth, his movements on the verge of erratic. 

Louis reached between his legs and flattened his hands on Harry’s abdomen, feeling the muscles contract underneath his palms. His eyes were hooded as he watched the way Harry exposed the length of his neck as he lolled his head backwards. Every inch of him was openly on display as he lost himself in the feeling of Louis and it was arguably the loveliest sight Louis had ever seen. 

His fingers reached to thumb over Harry’s nipples, immediately granted with a throaty groan from Harry’s throat. Louis bit back a smirk as he repeated the motion, eliciting the same response but with a harsher snap of his hips. Harry huffed out a laugh as he batted Louis’ hands away, arching his back so their chests pressed together. 

Harry slipped a hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Louis’ neglected cock. Louis arched into the feeling, a crease forming along his forehead as he felt his orgasm coil in his stomach. Harry buried himself inside of Louis, filthily grinding his hips as he worked Louis over with his hands. Louis’ thighs trembled and a moan cracked as he came apart between them. 

His eyes were clenched shut as he pulled Harry flush against him, ropes of come spreading between their abdomens as Louis fell apart. His rim tightened around Harry and Louis should have realized that was all it would take for Harry to hit his peak. Louis hummed as he felt Harry come inside of him, his body feeling enveloped by harry in every possibly way. 

Harry ducked his head and passionately kissed him, pressing his tongue past Louis’ teeth without any resistance. It didn’t take long before it turned into weak pants, their lips messily brushing against one another. Louis lightly scratched Harry’s back as he pulled out, slightly wincing at the feeling of Harry’s come dripping past his rim. 

Louis’ brows pulled together as Harry slinked lower on his body, his hair lightly tickling Louis chest as he lowered himself. His hips weakly twitched when Harry huffed out a hot breath over his cock. He was about to ask Harry what he was doing when a surprised yelp tumbled out of his mouth. Louis could feel Harry’s mouth smirking against the inside of his thigh. 

“Hold your thighs,” Harry told him as he lightly pressed Louis’ legs towards his chest. 

A flush crawled over Louis’ chest as he looped his arms around his thighs, tugging his knees towards his abdomen. Harry appreciatively hummed and cradled his hands against Louis’ arse. 

“ _Ohmygod_.”

Harry tentatively licked over Louis’ sensitive rim, lapping up a bit of his own come that that trickled towards Louis’ perineum. Louis gasped as Harry became bolder and spread Louis open, dipping his tongue past the ring of muscle. A guttural moan ripped Louis’ throat raw as Harry licked his own come out of him with languid flicks of his tongue. 

“We taste good together,” Harry hummed. 

“You’re fucking obscene,” Louis panted out as his back arched against the mattress. 

Harry chuckled, sending reverberations through Louis’ body. He raised his head and challengingly cocked his eyebrow, “Do you want me to stop?” 

Louis’ cock was already beginning to twitch with interest and Harry’s smug grin suggested he knew that. Louis rolled his eyes and pressed the back of his head into the mattress as he petulantly huffed out, “No.” 

“Thought as much,” Harry snorted. 

There was a retort of the tip of Louis’ tongue but it died the moment Harry started to lick him out. A jagged breath plunged through him, sparks dancing behind his closed eyelids as Harry pressed his tongue inside. Louis’ fingernails were digging into the back of his thighs as Harry began to build a rhythm with long firm strokes. 

“Feels so good,” Louis’ voice cracked as his thighs began to shudder in his grip. 

Harry hummed appreciatively and lightly nipped at Louis’ rim with his teeth, eliciting a high-pitched keen from Louis’ mouth. Sweat had begun to pool in the dip of his sternum, his body overheated from every sure press of Harry’s tongue against his entrance. 

“Ha-arry,” He keened when he felt Harry dip the tip of his finger inside of him. 

Harry leaned back on his haunches, eyes lips parted a touch in wonderment as he watched his finger easily slide inside of Louis. Instinctively, Louis let go of his thighs so he could press himself down onto Harry’s finger. He was over-stimulated, on the brink of it almost being painful. But, the heaviness growing in the pit of his gut urged him to chase after another orgasm. 

“Look at you,” Harry marveled as he trailed his free hand along Louis’ ribcage. “So bloody gone for it.” 

Louis nodded, his head lolled to the side when Harry brushed against his prostate. He reached over his head and roughly gripped the blanket underneath him, needing to find purchase as Harry massaged the bundle of nerves. The friction of Harry’s maddening ministrations against his walls was enough for his legs to kick out one last time, come weakly spurting from his slit and onto his stomach. 

Harry moaned with him as he coaxed Louis through his second orgasm, his finger never letting up against his prostate. Louis whimpered when he felt Harry milking him to the point where his cock was weakly jerking against his groin, each remaining blurt of come spent against his heated skin.

“Honey,” Harry mewled as he gently withdrew his finger. He arched his back and lapped Louis’ come with needy noises tumbling from his plush lips. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of this.” 

Louis carded his fingers into Harry’s limp curls, tugging them to bring his face upwards. Harry pushed himself upwards, his cock heavy as is brushed against Louis’ flushed torso. He tilted his head upwards and purred into Harry’s mouth when they slotted together. 

Reaching between their bodies, Louis fisted Harry’s cock. Harry immediately bucked into his grip, his precome messily spreading along Louis’ palm. 

“You’re always so wet,” Louis mumbled against Harry’s lips, accentuating his words by pressing his thumb against Harry’s slit. 

Harry tucked his head into Louis’ neck, incoherently nodding at Louis’ words. Louis twisted his palm over Harry’s cockhead, grinning at the obscene noise that Harry made in response. 

“Sensitive?” Louis teased him, his voice gruffer than he had ever heard it. 

“Aye,” Harry exhaled, his hips thrusting with each pump of Louis’ fist. “Feels amazing.”

Louis trailed his free hand down Harry’s back, testing as he slipping his fingers between Harry’s arse cheeks. It was the first time Louis felt brave enough to touch him there, never sure if Harry liked it and he was always too embarrassed to ask. Luckily, any worries he had were eliminated as Harry whined from the back of his throat, his arse immediately pushing back against Louis’ fingers.

“I want to try,” Louis whispered as he nosed against Harry’s temple. 

Harry pulled away from Louis neck, his eyes hooded as he cocked his head to the side.

“Try?” 

“Want to see if you taste like honey, too.” 

Louis couldn’t possibly put into words the sound that Harry made in response. Needy was the first to come to mind and yet, it didn’t even brush the surface of the feelings that reverberated back into him. 

Harry crashed their lips together in a bruising kiss, shakily nodding into Louis as his fingers gripped Louis’ waist. He leaned back and moaned when he saw that Harry’s eyes were two shaded darker than their usual iridescent emerald. With blown out pupils, Harry carefully shifted off of Louis. 

“On your stomach,” Louis tapped Harry’s side, dropping a kiss against Harry’s shoulder as he got situated on his knees. 

“Are you sure?” Harry breathily asked before he moved. 

Louis firmly nodded in response, biting back a grin at the almost relieved expression on Harry’s face. Harry moved onto his hands and knees, his pert arse pushed back towards Louis’ chest. 

“Tell me if you don’t like it, yeah?” Louis anxiously said as he cupped Harry’s cheeks. 

Harry nodded, glimpsing over his shoulder, “I trust you, little dove.”

“Fuck,” Louis exhaled on an airy laugh. 

His fingers gripped the taught muscle of Harry’s arse, flexing and relaxing his hold as he watched the skin blossom a pink pigment. At Harry’s soft moan in response, Louis ducked to the side and kissed where the cleft of Harry’s arse met his thigh. The sparse hairs along his thigh we soft against his mouth as his pouted his lips. 

“Oh god,” Harry weakly exhaled, his thighs already shaking. 

Louis inhaled deeply as his nose brushed against the back of Harry’s balls, his eyes rolling back in his head as he breathed him in. Harry’s natural musk was spicy from the tinge of sweat and Louis had a feeling that he would taste more like dark chocolate instead of honey. His mouth watered as he firmly licked from Harry’s balls to his perineum, pulling back just before he reached Harry’s rim. 

“Should have known you’d be a tease,” Harry choked out, a faint laugh shaking his back. 

 

“Are you complaining, Captain?” Louis smirked and gave Harry’s arse a firm squeeze. 

Harry throatily moaned and pressed his hips back into Louis’ touch. 

“Not at all.” 

“Good.” 

Louis spread Harry open and whimpered at the pretty rose color of Harry’s rim. He hovered over Harry’s entrance and let spit drip from his lips and onto his skin. Harry immediately responded with a groan, falling forward onto his forearms. The muscles along his back were beautifully curved as he flexed against the bed, his forehead tucked into the crook of his elbow. 

Bending his neck forwards, Louis tentatively licked over Harry’s rim. The puckered skin twitched underneath his mouth, instantly luring him back to have another taste. Louis’ eyelashes fluttered against the height of his cheekbones as he hummed against Harry’s rim. His tongue flattened as he firmly licked along the bitter skin. 

“Dark chocolate,” Louis murmured against Harry’s arse. “Not honey,” he vehemently inhaled only to exhale, “You taste like chocolate.” 

Harry lowly groaned, the sounds sending vibrations against Louis’ lips. Louis rubbed both of his thumbs on either side of Harry’s rim, teasingly pressing against the sensitive skin with the pads of his digits. Pointing his tongue, Louis traced the tip just around Harry’s rim. He was close enough for it to feel good, but just far enough where it had Harry panting out needy breaths. 

Swirling his tongue, Louis lathed directly over his rim. He applied a firmer pressure and barely pressed inside of Harry. An incredibly loud whine tore from Harry’s mouth in response, his entrance relaxing against Louis’ tongue. 

With a bit of determination, Louis spread Harry’s cheeks wider and repeated the motion, dipping his tongue slightly deeper the second time. His jaw had begun to ache as he fucked Harry open with his tongue, but it was well worth it to hear the litany of whimpers that Harry was releasing. 

“Think you can come like this?” Louis wondered aloud. He messily rubbed his face into Harry, feeling a euphoric high from Harry’s taste and smell. “Think you can come from my mouth, Treacle?” 

Harry was reverently nodding, “Yeah, yeah, just keep doing that.” He reached his hands behind him and pulled his cheeks apart, making himself open for Louis while panting, “Doing so fucking well, honey.”

Louis’ jaw slacked as he watched Harry’s cheek roughly press into the mattress, his neck crooked at an angle as his entire weight rested on his shoulders. Feeling just as needy for Harry to come, Louis ducked back down and altered his long licks for quick flicks of his tongue against Harry’s rim. 

Their moans comingled in the cabin as Harry canted his hips back against Louis’ mouth, the jewels of his rings imprinting themselves into the supple skin along his arse. Louis’ jaw was burning as he suckled against the rosy skin and Louis didn’t think that he ever had felt so drunk off of an ache. 

As Harry’s thighs began to tremor, Louis pushed his tongue inside of Harry. A choked of moan broke through the space as Harry came. Louis whimpered as he felt Harry’s rim flutter around his tongue, pulling him deeper as he lathed against Harry’s walls. 

Louis pulled back and wiped the spit off of his chin, knowing that he looked wrecked from being buried against Harry. The other man wasn’t much better off, his weight slumping forward with a faint groan. Pulling the kicked off throw from the end of the mattress, Louis curled his body against Harry’s back. He covered them with the blanket and let himself embrace the slick slide of their skin against one another. 

“God, do I love you,” Harry exhaled as Louis wrapped his arm around his lower back. 

Louis tangled their legs together and weakly let out a labored breath. He kissed Harry’s shoulder blade, “I love you, too.” 

“With everything I am.” 

“Everything,” Louis agreed. 

**** 

“So…The landlubber is staying?” 

Louis rolled his eyes and settled his hands on his hips, “I’m right here, you know?” 

Gemma pointedly raised her brow, “I am aware, aye.” 

The second time they woke up that morning, it was to Gemma barging into Harry’s quarters when Zayn let it slip that Louis was back aboard. That led to her finding them asleep as well as naked in bed, which then led to Gemma pouring a goblet of brandy over Louis’ head for “corrupting” her brother. Louis pretended that there was an affectionate glint in her eyes when she did it. 

Gemma left to give them enough time to change before she came barreling back in the cabin like a piston. Harry had his hands on Louis’ shoulders as he stood behind him in the middle of the room. Louis would have believed it to be a romantic gesture if he didn’t also think that Harry was using him as a human shield against his sister. 

“I don’t understand,” Gemma huffed out for the third time. 

“What’s there to understand?” Harry groaned, his fingers slightly pinching Louis’ skin. “Louis came back and he’s staying here. With me.” 

Louis nodded and jutted his thumb towards Harry, “What he said.” 

“You were a fuckin’ wreck when I left last night,” Gemma roughly pushed her hair away from her face in frustration. She began to pace across the floor, “How am I to believe that you’re suddenly happy just because Tomlinson came back?” 

Harry took a careful step backwards, dragging Louis with him, “I gave him the choice to stay with his family and he still came back.” 

Louis folded his arms over his chest, “Still here, guys.”

“Sorry,” Harry dropped and affectionate kiss on the top of his head. 

“Listen, Gemma,” Louis huffed out, earning a sharp glare from the other Styles. “I am staying on this ship and you can hate me for what happened, even though it was not my choice,” he paused to narrow his eyes at Harry, “But, I am here and I’m not going to leave. I love Harry and fuck all if I’m gonna let him slip away again.”

Gemma cocked her hip to the side as she sized Louis up. Louis straightened his back in attempt to make himself seem taller and more confident. After a moment of neither of them breaking eye contact, Gemma sighed and rolled her eyes 

“This is what you want?” She asked, her words directed at Harry. 

Harry was quick to nod, his hands slipping to rest along the dip of Louis’ waist. 

“Aye.” 

“Right,” Gemma said, more to herself than the two men. “If you mess this up…” she threateningly pointed a finger at Louis.

“Yeah, yeah, guts for gardens. My head not attached to my body. Death, blah, blah,” Louis waved her off. “Zayn already gave me the speech.”

Harry suppressed a giggle against the back of Louis’ head and even Gemma’s mouth quirked upwards at his words. 

There was a loud crack and Louis jolted back as the door to Harry’s cabin busted open. The slab of wood roughly slammed against the wall and sent a large painting of The Siren’s Scream, plummeting to the ground with an unpleasant splintering noise. Harry immediately tensed his grip and pulled Louis behind his back as he broadened his stance. 

“Ah shit, sorry!” 

Louis peeked from behind Harry at the additional voice, cackling as he watched Niall jog into the room with a disgruntled Jules in tow. He halted in the middle of the cabins, hauling Jules to a jerky stop with his hand looped around her dainty wrist. 

“Could ‘ave been a bit more subtle!” Jules hissed from behind her teeth. 

“Jules?” Harry tiled his head to the side as his brows pulled together. He looked between Niall and her, “What’re you doing here?” 

She opened her mouth to respond but let out a pleased noise when she saw Louis step out from behind Harry’s larger frame. 

“You found ‘im!” 

Harry turned to face Louis, “You know each other?” 

“Actually,” Niall chimed in with his pointer finger held in the air, “You ‘ave my bonny lass to thank for ‘im being here.” 

Jules stomped on his Niall’s foot, “How many times do I ‘ave to tell you not to call me that?” 

Niall rolled his eyes, not even slightly nonplused by her reaction, “It’ll grow on ye.” 

“Like leprosy, maybe,” Jules grumbled, the slight tilt of her mouth contradicting her words.

“Um…” Harry drawled out. 

“Oh, right,” Jules shook her head. “I brought Louis on me ship from Kensington.” 

Louis nodded as he rested his hand on Harry’s lower back, “She did the tattoo, too.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, his mouth opening a touch as a trace of a dimple pressed into his cheek. With long strides, Harry crossed the floor and wordlessly pulled Jules into his arms. Louis barely controlled a fond grin as Jules wrapped her arms around his waist, her small frame nearly diminished by Harry. 

“Thank you,” Harry quietly murmured, probably meaning to be quiet enough for only her to hear. 

A blush tinged Louis’ cheeks pink when Harry pulled away and situated himself by his side once more. Harry wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulders and Louis had to avert his gaze from Niall as the blonde began to suggestively waggle his eyebrows in response. 

When a brief silence stretched between the small group, Niall blurted out, “She wants to join the crew.” 

“Niall!” Jules thwacked him with the back of her hand.

Niall rubbed the side of his bicep, “What! S’true!”

“Aye?” Harry asked with a tilt in his voice that suggested he knew more than he was leading on. 

Jules shrugged her shoulder, “Potentially.” 

Harry rolled his fingers through the air, “I have a distinct memory of offering you a place amongst my crew and if I remember correctly,” Harry drawled out his words as his eyebrow quirked upwards, “You rejected that offer and politely told me to fuck off.” 

“Wait, what?” Niall reared back, expectantly turning to look at Jules. 

Jules slightly shrugged her shoulders, “I may ‘ave forgotten to mention that bit.” 

Gemma snorted, “You changed your mind because of Niall?” She gave Niall an unimpressed once over, “I mean honestly…Niall?” 

“Hold on now,” Louis interrupted, holding his hand up to silence her. “Niall is a lovely lad.” 

“Thanks, Lou,” Niall beamed, seeming genuinely touched by the sentiment. He narrowed his eyes at Gemma, “Glad someone on this bloody ship appreciates me.” 

Harry snorted, “What say you, Jules?”

She was quiet for a moment, eyes sliding between Louis’ smirk, Gemma’s eye roll, and Niall’s hopeful expression. 

“Aye.” 

Niall wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her close towards his side, Jules only slightly resisting the embrace. Louis grinned, his head perked as he looked up at Harry. The corners of Harry’s mouth were unevenly jaunted as he watched the pair. He looked softer than usual in front of other people and a selfish part of Louis wondered if he had anything to do with the subtle change. 

“Gemma,” Harry flicked his eyebrow upwards as a mischievous glint twinkled in his eye. He wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulders and tugged him close against his side, “Tell the crew that we’re staying another night at port.” Harry’s eyesight trickled down towards Louis, “I feel as if a celebratory night is in order.” 

A flush painted Louis’ cheeks a ruddy crimson pigment, his head tucking into the crook of Harry’s neck. The small group filed out of the cabins, Harry keeping a protective arm around Louis’ shoulders as they meandered onto the deck. Gemma flitted across the deck towards the shrouds, shouting the new orders towards those who were keeping guard of the ship in their absence. 

Zayn and Liam shuffled from the quarterdeck, stopping just in front of Louis and Harry. Instinctively, Louis’ eyes darted towards the hilt of Zayn’s sword. 

“Yer staying?” Liam expectantly asked, his face not giving anything away as he looked between the two men. 

Louis slowly nodded as Harry firmly answered, “Aye.” 

Liam nodded, deciding something in his mind before he reached out and roughly tugged Louis against his chest. Louis stumbled forwards and let out a puff of breath as Liam hugged him against his chest. A fond smile tipped his lips upwards as he wrapped his arms around Liam’s middle. 

“M’ glad yer back, Tomlinson,” Liam quietly said before he pulled away, his hand remaining gripped onto Louis’ shoulder. 

“Me too,” Louis honestly said. 

His attention slid towards Zayn, his heart anxiously rabbiting inside his chest as he held his hand out between them. Louis cocked his eyebrow, “Do we have an accord?” 

Zayn looked at the proffered hand, slightly hesitating before he joined their hands. He firmly shook Louis’ hand and nodded, “Aye.” 

“Aww, well wasn’t that just sweet!” Niall cooed as he wrapped his arms around Louis and Zayn’s shoulders. “You bastards ‘ave gone soft on me!” 

“Never,” Zayn snorted he shook his head from side to side, his mouth quirked into an uneven grin. “You’re just drunk off of having been laid.” 

“Aye,” Niall beamed, his eyes glistening as he stared off into space. He quickly shook his head, his pupils widening, “Don’t tell the missus I said that though, she’ll ‘ave me cock an’ balls.”

“Missus, hmm?” Louis drawled out with a smug smile. “Moving pretty fast there, Neil.” 

“I am literally standing right ‘ere.” 

The five men turned around to see Jules standing behind them with her arms folded. Louis let out a sharp cackle, the woman looking like an irritated pixie as her eyes narrowed towards Niall. Jules shouldered off her jacket and tossed it towards Louis. Only flinching slightly in surprise, Louis grabbed the material before it fell to the floor. 

“ _You_ ,” Jules threateningly pointed at Niall, her fingers gripping a petite dagger from her belt. 

“Oh, shit,” Niall gasped, immediately darting away. 

Everyone let out a bellow of guffaws as Jules was quick on his heels, sprinting off the deck and down the plank of wood connected to the dock. Louis jogged towards the ship’s siding in time to see Jules pocket her dagger and jump onto Niall’s back, sending them into a tumbling mess. They rolled into a pocket of ferns, Jules victoriously pinning Niall underneath him. Louis shook his head and turned away when she ducked her head down.

“I like her,” Liam chirped, his stomach still shaking from laughter 

“So does, Horan,” Harry smirked. 

When Gemma rejoined them, the five pirates clambered off of the ship and towards the heart of the city. Harry kept a steady hand between Louis’ shoulder blades, never straying far from his side as they meandered through the slew of crowds. Louis glimpsed at his company and felt warmth burrowing in his gut as he felt a sense of being at home. Not in a physical sense, but the kind of comfort that came from a place of raw emotion. 

Zayn and Liam’s fingers were tangled with one another, their hands lightly swaying between them as they walked with confident strides. Louis noticed the way Zayn’s exterior became transparent when Liam just so much as glimpsed at him, a gentle curve of his lips appearing. Liam wasn’t any better; his brawny demeanor eliminated as their skin brushed and whenever Zayn tossed him a private grin, his eyes shined like the Milky Way. 

And there was Gemma as she stood towards Louis’ left, her eyes sparkling while she told Harry about the negotiations she made during the night prior. She carried herself with an aura that everyone strived to have, grace and severity intermingling in her gate and countenance. Louis reckoned that there wasn’t anyone else who could love as fiercely as she did, be as protective as she could be. 

Then there was Harry, the captain who had the ability to summon every pair of eyes within his vicinity without even trying. He was captivating with the uneven smile that jaunted his mouth and the constant impish glint that lit his irises. His broad shoulders and sheer height gained him an air of dominance amongst the group that was well earned and blatantly respected. Harry was the sheer representation of what it meant to make a successful life out of piracy.

At the same time, Louis knew the gentler parts of Harry. He knew how it felt to have Harry’s thumb lightly trace circles into his skin as he guided them through the streets. Louis knew that the inside of his thighs were soft and sensitive anytime Louis brushed his lips against them. And he knew that Harry’s heart was deeper than he would ever let on, that he would lay himself bare before someone he loved was in remote danger. 

And for some reason, one Louis couldn’t fathom, Harry had picked him. 

They shuffled into a tavern, Louis swaying away from a motley group of shouting men. Harry’s hands shifted to grip Louis’ shoulders, bringing him close to his chest as they walked to the bar. Pulling out a barstool, he settled onto the wooden seat and raised his fingers towards the barkeep. The curvaceous woman suggestively swayed her hips as she walked over, stopping in front of Louis. Her ruby lips were slinked into a smirk as her brown eyes slightly narrowed.

“What can I get yuh, handsome?” She asked, resting her forearms against the lip of the bar. 

Harry pressed his front against Louis’ back and possessively wound his arms around Louis’ chest. He leaned over and nipped the supple skin against Louis’ neck, lowly rumbling in his throat. Louis huffed out a laugh, pushing his elbow back into Harry’s gut. Harry didn’t let go, only rubbed his nose against the junction of Louis’ neck. 

“Stop it!” Louis giggled, pulling his neck away from Harry’s mouth. He apologetically grinned at the barkeep, “Apologies, m’lady.” 

“I’m not,” Harry toothily beamed, quickly landing two kisses on Louis’ neck. He pulled back to hold up two fingers, “Two pints of Saint James and a glass of brandy.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed herself off of the bar, shifting her stance into something less uninhibited before getting their drinks ready. Harry hummed against the shell of Louis’ ear, his tongue darting out to lick the skin behind his earlobe.

“Harry!” Louis snickered, his cheeks flushed as Harry continued to work his mouth over him. “We’re in public, have _some_ dignity.” 

“Really, H,” Gemma chimed in, shoving her shoulder into Harry’s side, nearly toppling both men over from her force. “We get it. You love ‘im,” She rolled her fingers through the air, “He loves you. No one else can so much as look at ‘im without you getting stroppy.” 

Louis cackled at Harry’s pout, taking a bit of pity on him. He craned his neck back and pursed his lips. Harry made a pleased noise as he ducked down and kissed Louis, one of his hands coming to rest against the front of Louis’ throat. His thumb lightly pressed against Louis’ windpipe, eliciting a quiet hum in response. 

“S’cuse me.”

Louis grinned against Harry’s mouth, pulling away and directly avoiding the barkeep’s expectant glare. Harry paid for their drinks, shuffling the two ales towards Louis and fisting the brandy for himself. 

“Thank you,” Louis mumbled before taking a large swig of ale. 

Harry winked at him from over the lip of his drink, tilting the amber liquid back.

“Well, well, look who it is.”

He watched as Harry’s back stiffened in recognition, his mouth opening a touch at the additional voice. Louis lowered his mug and turned around on the barstool, eyes peeking over Harry’s shoulders. A laugh threatened to sputter out from his lips as he looked at Nick standing behind them. 

Gemma snorted, “This should be good.” 

Harry turned around and folded his arms over his chest, “Come back for another beating, Grimshaw?” 

“At ease, Captain,” Nick rolled his eyes. “Just here for a drink like the rest o’ this sorry lot.”

“There are other taverns,” Harry coolly said. 

Nick’s gaze rested on Louis before flickering back to Harry, “Aye, but I quite like the view in this one.”

Louis parted his legs and pulled Harry back between them, his fingers pressing into the dip of his waist. He reassuringly rubbed his thumbs against Harry’s back, feeling Harry’s taught tendons under his touch. 

“Harry,” Louis warned as he lightly pinched his side. “Let it be.” 

Nick bit into his cheek, obviously attempting to resist a snarky comment that was on the tip of his tongue. Zayn casually sidled himself towards Harry’s right, his fingers toying with the hilt of his sword. Gemma and Liam watched the exchange with mild entertainment over their faces, seemingly unbothered that Harry was bound to jump the other man. Louis continued to massage his fingers against Harry’s back, silently urging him not to make a rash decision. 

Harry looked over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes slightly letting up as they locked on Louis’ hopeful ones. He let out a sharp exhale and stiffly nodded before tangling their fingers together. As Harry grabbed his brandy, Louis quickly wrapped his fingers around his full ale and then let Harry begin to drag them away from the bar. 

Nick whistled from behind his teeth, his hands cupped around his mouth, “Seems like Styles has gone all soft for a pretty face and even prettier arse!”

Louis and Harry froze in their place as the tavern quieted into a hushed bumble of commentary. Harry immediately spun around on his heel, his chest huffed out in rage as he started towards Nick. Forcefully, Louis flattened his hand against Harry’s chest to stop him.

“Louis,” Harry warned, his voice just a touch above a whisper. 

“Right, no,” Louis shook his head. He held his ale towards Harry, “Hold this for a moment, love.” 

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together as he took Louis’ drink, his eyes darted between the ale and Nick’s smug expression. Louis gave him a quick nod before turning around and immediately punting Nick in his balls with the front of his boot. Nick doubled over, a pained groan seething through his teeth as he fell to his knees. Louis fisted a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, smirking as the other man winced in response. 

“Don’t antagonize Harry,” Louis gritted before he reared his free hand back and thrusted a clenched fist forward. A nasty crack shattered through the tavern when Louis’ fist connected with Nick’s nose. He tugged Nick’s head back and narrowed his eyes, “And don’t patronize me.” 

Louis roughly pushed him back and turned towards Harry. He plucked the mug from his hand and downed the rest of the ale in one go. Smacking his lips, he set the glass onto a nearby table. 

“Right,” Louis exhaled, his mouth stretching into a smile, “Shall we go?” 

Harry’s dumbfounded expression was cracked by a large beam, his eyes bright as he let out a sharp cackle. The tavern suddenly roared with loud cheers and applause, the sound deafening in comparison to previous quietness. Louis slightly shrugged his shoulders as his cheeks faintly blushed. 

“Well done, Tomlinson!”

Louis was pulled back, his eyes wide as Gemma hauled him into a hug. A surprised laugh tumbled out of his mouth as he felt Zayn and Liam circle around them, a tangle of praise being tossed at him. He felt the skin by his eyes crinkle as Zayn clasped him on the shoulder once Gemma released her hold. 

“Nasty punch, that was,” Liam beamed as he patted Louis on the back. 

Zayn nodded, almost looking giddy, “Didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest.” 

“Next drink on me,” Gemma added, ushering them towards the exit of the tavern. 

Harry looped his fingers around Louis’ wrist, pulling him into his side. “You’re incredible,” He shook his head in disbelief. Harry lowered his mouth towards the shell of Louis’ ear, his voice gruff as he tacked on, “Gonna lick you out so good tonight when we get back.”

Louis felt his cock twitch in his trousers at Harry’s words. He listed himself onto his toes and lightly nipped at Harry’s ear, lightly tugging on the soft skin. Harry slid a palm down Louis’ lower back, lightly cupping his arse before sliding it back up.

“That a promise, Captain?” Louis murmured before leaning away. 

Harry grinned, his cheeks pinker than before as he nodded, “Aye.” 

“Come on!” Liam called from the door, his hand frantically waving them over. 

Harry held up his pointer finger and then proceeded to down his brandy, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. Louis lightly tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched Harry elongate his neck backwards, the rest of the brandy washing into his mouth. Tossing the empty glass onto a table, Harry wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulder and led them outside. 

The next few hours were spent by the five of them darting from tavern to tavern, eventually coming up with the goal to have a drink at each one. Niall and Jules ended up joining them at the third bar, their clothes rumpled and hair askew from “talking by the docks.” Not one person believed that excuse for their absence. 

Eventually, they landed at the last bar along the strip. Louis giggled as Harry’s eyes went wide when he pointed out a piano nestled in the back corner of the tavern. He let himself be pulled towards the old piano, Harry’s infectious stream of laughter undeniable as he begged Louis to play something. 

“Harry, s’not even gonna sound good!” Louis snickered as Harry ungracefully moved his hands onto the keys. 

“Don’t care,” Harry dopily smiled as he sat down on the bench, their sides pressed together. “Serenade me, my little dove!”

“Won’t be much of a serenade,” Louis kissed him on the cheek. He swatted Harry’s hands away, “Now stop distracting me, I am an artist at work.” 

“Aye, right,” Harry nodded seriously, his expression cracking with a sharp laugh. 

Louis rested his fingers against the keys, pulling an unfortunate sound from the piano when he pressed down. Harry was cackling into the crook of his neck as Louis tried to find the correct fingerings, his eyesight a bit blurred. Louis was definitely drunk and he was impossibly in love with the man next to him; that was his only logical explanation for playing so horrendously that they were ushered out of the tavern by the barkeep.

The pair stumbled back out into the streets, Harry’s hands on Louis hips as he twirled them in a lucid spin. Louis looped his fingers around Harry’s neck, letting his body be maneuvered in an offbeat dance. He raised himself onto the tips of his toes as Harry led them, his head moving to rest against the curve of Harry’s shoulder. Harry bowed his neck and softly hummed into Louis’ ear. 

“Regret coming back?” 

Louis carefully pulled away, eyes lethargically searching into Harry’s placid irises as they continued to dance underneath the gentle haze of the moonlight. He slowly leaned forward, tilting his chin upwards so their lips could slot together. Their breath mingled as Louis slightly parted his lips, enough to taste the brandy slip off of Harry’s tongue. As the kiss slowed to a string of gentle pecks, Louis leaned back to rest their foreheads together. 

“Could never regret you.” 

They continued to dance in the center of the city, oil lamps painting them in a warm glow as they swayed their weight from foot to foot. Time slowed as if they were in a capsule, the minutes dragging out as they carved new memories with lush kisses and delicate presses of their fingertips. With his heart palpitating unadulterated adoration, Louis let himself sink deeper into love. 

****

Louis shut the cabin’s door behind him, flinching at the loud sound as he carried over a pitcher of fresh water. He filled up seven goblets, receiving thankful groans from the hungover group. Zayn and Liam were the only two who made it into a sitting position at the table, apparently having a stronger tolerance than the rest of them. 

Niall was starfished in the center of the floor, his limbs spread wide as he let out a string of continuous groans. Jules wasn’t better off, her body tucked into his side as she had a permanent displeased look painted over her expression. Gemma and Harry were slouched on the bed, both of the Styles siblings nearly comatose from dehydration and headaches. 

Wordlessly, Louis passed out the goblets before he settled himself on the bed. Harry immediately rolled his head into Louis’ lap, nuzzling his face as he let out a gentle hum. Louis carded his fingers though Harry’s hair, lighting scratching at his scalp. He watched as Harry drifted in and out of sleep, his nose twitching as he let out huffy breaths anytime he started to wake up. 

“M’ glad you worked it out,” Gemma mumbled, her head titled to the side as she watched Louis lightly trace his fingers over Harry’s skin.

Louis bit back a hesitant smile, “Yeah?”

Gemma nodded, “He’s happy with you.” She rolled her eyes and started to push herself off the bed, “And I guess yer not all _that_ horrible to be ‘round.”

Harry jostled at the bed moving, his head snapping up as he gathered his bearings. Gemma flicked him on his forehead and hopped off the mattress, leaning her body to the side as she stretched out her sore muscles. Louis bit the inside of his cheek as Harry’s pout morphed into a sleepy smile when he looked at him. He leaned forward and sweetly kissed Louis, contently sighing against his lips. 

Louis pecked him back and murmured, “Good morning, sleepy.”

Harry seriously nodded, “It’s exhausted being a pirate and all that.”

“If ye two are done mentally suckin’ each other off, we should be setting a new course,” Niall grumbled as he pushed himself to a standing position. 

“Bastard,” Louis huffed out on a laugh. 

The group followed suit, pushing themselves to their feet and meeting in the middle of the cabin. Louis sidled next to Harry, their biceps lightly brushing against each other. 

“What now?” Louis quietly asked, turning his body into Harry’s side. 

Harry wound his arm over Louis’ shoulder, his fingers gentle as they caressed Louis’ skin in even strokes. His bottom lip was tugged between his teeth, eyes clouding in thought. Louis pinched his side and waited for Harry to look at him. When Harry’s attention settled on him, he squeezed Louis’ arm, a tinge of worry settling between his brows. Louis’ pulse began to rabbit in his neck, anticipating Harry’s words before they filled the quiet cabin. 

“We set sail for Caicos.” 

Louis wasn’t sure why Harry’s words felt as if they were punching a hole into the dream-like state he was in. Just as the chips were falling into place, Louis had naively forgotten Harry’s sole purpose since they had met. Harry had never pretended to want anything different and he had been upfront with his innate craving to take the commodore down. Still, it felt surreal that the plan was being put to action. It was all a bit much for Louis to gauge and he could feel himself beginning to withdraw into a chasm of anxiety. 

His palms went clammy and every inhale of air felt jagged as realization poured nerves into each vein that ran through Louis’ body. Every pulsation of his heart felt heavy and abrasive. Thoughts of his father wrapped themselves into the pit of turmoil, turning his stomach in on itself. How was he supposed to face the man who all but abandoned his family? How could Louis meet the eye of the man who had single handedly obliterated Harry’s life by simply pulling his finger against a trigger? 

Harry must have been able to feel Louis begin to tremble because he sharply cleared his throat and addressed the rest of the cabin, “Horan, start charting towards Caicos. Everyone else, take your posts and give me a minute with Louis.” 

Louis was blindly aware of boots shuffling against the floor, the door being shut to leave them two alone in the cabin. Harry’s palms cradled his neck and he immediately lowered his head to meet Louis’ eyes. He thumbed Louis’ jawline and leaned forward to press their foreheads together. 

“Breathe for me, little dove,” Harry murmured, deeply inhaling. He nudged Louis’ nose with his own, “Need you to take a breath.” 

Unwanted tears spiked the corner of Louis’ eyes as he pinched them shut. When Harry’s thumb pressed against his bottom lip, Louis roughly mimicked Harry’s breathing pattern. There was a roaring in his ears and he felt as if he was back to drowning, helpless as the current continued to drag him into its depths. 

“There we go,” Harry encouraged, slipping one of his hands to rest of Louis’ heart. “Can you talk to me, little dove?” 

Louis roughly shook his head as a sob wracked through him. He covered his hands over his mouth as if to take the abrasive sound back. Harry’s hands soothed over his skin, grounding him as the waves of anxiety threatened to pull him away. Louis rocked forward and curled into Harry’s chest, Harry immediately caging his frame with his sure arms. 

“How – How am I supposed to –” Louis hiccupped, his words spitting out in a rough staccato. 

Harry shushed him as he gently rocked their bodies from side to side. He continued to demonstrate a breathing pattern for Louis to reciprocate and eventually, Louis was able to will his body to follow along. He could feel himself being lulled out of the mental headspace that captured him, Harry’s heartbeat serving as a searchlight in the storm. 

Louis felt exhaustion pulling his limbs down as he submerged from the swell of anxiety. His limbs felt achy and his throat rubbed raw from pent up sobs and razor blade breaths. With one arm supporting Louis’ back, Harry squatted down and scooped Louis’ legs into his arms. He cradled Louis against his chest and carried him to his bed. Louis’ fingers gripped onto Harry’s tunic, the rest of his body nearly limp as he was rested against the mattress.

Harry crawled into bed and spread his legs open so Louis could rest between them. Louis closed his eyes as the back of his head landed against the front of Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s fingers snaked around Louis’ front, spreading them over his stomach. Louis sniffed as Harry pressed a firm kiss against the crown of his head. 

“I hate him,” Louis whispered. 

“I know,” Harry murmured, his fingers lightly rubbing circles against Louis’ torso.

Louis blinked back a set of fresh tears, willing himself to be braver than he felt. He wanted to be strong and supportive during the apex of Harry’s determination, but there was a chink in his armor. It was a rusted chink that enabled him to feel anything other than worry. How was Louis meant to be strong for Harry when he himself, couldn’t even face his own demons? 

“Little dove,” Harry whispered, pursing his lips against Louis’ temple. Louis could feel his heart manically racing when he said, “I won’t track him down if you don’t want me to.” 

That only set Louis off into another wrack of sobs, his heart impossibly aching more for the man he loved. Harry was willing to push his craving for revenge behind him for Louis. It was maddening and absurd to Louis, but he knew that if roles were reversed, he would be offering the same out. 

Flattening his feet against the mattress, Louis pulled his knees towards his chest. His back loomed over like the branches of a weeping willow, knots of his spine protruding along his back with the movement. Harry followed him, of course he did, his body curling over Louis’ in a protective embrace. 

Harry wrapped his arm over Louis’, their skin flush against each other. Louis sharply inhaled as he looked towards his left, Harry’s rose aligning with his dagger. He could feel his heart slowing when his eyes traced over their complimentary designs. Harry’s words from a distant memory echoed though his mind, melodic and profound as they wound their way to Louis’ chest. 

_“There are beautiful things in this world…Some of these beautiful things, the ones we hold closest to our hearts, are worth fighting for.”_

Louis exhaled, feeling as if his negativity was forcibly pushing its way out of his body with the release of air. He wiped the back of his hand against his face, scrubbing the sheen of tears away. Harry gently leaned backwards as Louis uncurled his back. 

“I’m going to fight for you,” Louis decided, his words marinating into the air around them. 

Harry pressed his forehead between Louis’ shoulder blades, slowly shaking from side to side, “I would never ask you to do that.” 

“I know,” Louis slowly nodded as he lowered his hands to wrap around Harry’s thighs. He lightly squeezed the taught muscles, “I will, though.”

“Why?” 

Louis looked at the rose tattoo, flickers of his family and Harry spinning through his sightline. Everything that he deemed to be beautiful and pure was tainted by his father. What life would be worth living if he didn’t defend what he held closest to his heart? 

“Because I realized which beautiful things are worth fighting for.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the final chapter. I just wanted to say a massive thank you to anyone who has stuck with me on this story, it means the absolute world to me and I am very proud of it. Another thank you to people who have commented throughout, I love reading the feedback and it makes my day to know that people feel strongly enough that they leave their thoughts!
> 
> Lastly, special thank you to my best pal **Julie** (jewelsfae) who inspired the character Jules (yes, she is a real person). You've been the biggest support since the night I started this gem. 
> 
> One last time, you can find me at domestic-harry 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> -Lis xx

“I think I’m getting better at this,” Louis breathlessly laughed, his fingers clamped around a fistful of twisted rope.

Steve looked over his shoulder, pausing his step as he grinned down at Louis, “I would hope so, it’s been long enough.” 

Louis snorted and lightly knocked his knuckles against the sole of Steve’s boot, “Keep climbing, Aoki.” 

The wind gently whipped around them as they climbed towards the mizzen. Louis’ biceps flexed with each pull of his upper-body weight. Orange and pink hues bathed their skin as the sun began to tear through the horizon, the sky bleeding into a compilation of pastels as the new day began. 

Steve scaled onto the post first, shimmying down the barrel of wood to give Louis room. Louis inhaled through his nose as his fingers reached out to haul himself over the mizzen, only exhaling once his thighs were straddled around the post. He rested his back against the main post, his head lolling to the side as he let the morning greet them with the gently rock of the current and seagull melodies. 

“Good to have you back.” 

Louis let a small smile tip his mouth upwards, “Good to be back.” 

Steve’s ever relaxed countenance didn’t waver as he leaned back and laid his spine flat against the post. Louis watched as his feet gently swayed to and fro, remaining tranquil even though they were a third of a league above ground. As it would turn out, the life of piracy seemed to agree with Steve. 

“Did I miss anything good?” Louis asked, immediately grinning when he saw the corner of Steve’s mouth twitch. “Oh, I did, didn’t I? What have you been up to, you salty dog?”

“Been working on new tune, actually,” Steve slightly craned his neck to wink at Louis before settling back down. “Turns out Sheeran is a good mate to have. Gemma, too.” 

“Aye?” Louis’ brows raised, his foot lightly kicking out to hit Steve’s. 

Steve nodded, letting out a quiet laugh, “She can’t sing for shit, though.” 

“Neither can you,” Louis chirped, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. 

“Which is why I don’t bother,” Steve countered. He reached over his head and toyed with a piece of his raven hair, “Gemma on the either hand…We’ve been trying to figure how to tell her that she should stick to fiddle.” 

Louis cackled, “Might want to make sure her dagger is hidden when you tell her.” 

Steve laughed, his chest shaking from the movement, “Exactly why I haven’t said anything.” 

They let silence stretch between them as their laughter died down, sinking into the feeling of the world coming to life around them. A few men were pattering around on the deck below, their voiced too quiet to carry up towards the mizzen. Louis’ fingers mindlessly toyed with the hem of his tunic as he watched the tresses of Steve’s hair fitfully dance in the breeze. 

“How do you feel about Caicos?” Steve asked, his voice quiet but not necessarily hesitant. 

Louis bit into the side of his cheek as he contemplated the question, his eyes slightly narrowing. Over the past few days, his feelings towards seeing his father again weren’t ebbed with anxiety like they had been during that afternoon in the cabin with Harry. It was more so restless anticipation over anything else. It wasn’t possible for him, or anyone, to know what would happen when they got to Caicos so he didn’t know how he was meant to prepare for the confrontation. 

“Better than I did,” Louis honestly answered. He slightly shrugged his shoulders before running a hand through his hair, “Still rather difficult to grapple with because there’s so much I want to say to him.” 

Steve pushed hauled himself upwards to look at Louis, his head cocked to the side, “Such as?” 

Louis darted his tongue out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes darting away from Steve as he gave a noncommittal shrug. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” Steve patted Louis’ knee reassuringly. “But…if you did, I wouldn’t judge you.”

Louis fiddles with his fingers in his lap, “I want to know why he never stayed.” 

Steve mulled over the statement for a minute, his eyes flickering over Louis’ shoulder before they rested back on him. He thumbed the wood underneath them, his head tilting from side to side as he contemplated his words before they came out. 

“A lot of men who serve have families that they leave,” He carefully started. Steve hopefully tacked on, “Doesn’t mean that it was personal, Louis.”

Louis humorlessly laughed, “Felt pretty personal when I asked him to stay and he said he would miss sailing too much.” 

Steve’s eyes impossibly widened at Louis’ response and it would have been comical under different circumstances. Louis had never told anyone about that day, not even his mother or Charlotte. 

Louis was a naïve nine-year-old when gathered the courage to ask the commodore to stay home instead of shipping back out in the morning. He could remember feeling nervous as he toed into the study, his hands politely clasped behind his back when he stood in front of his father’s desk. It may have been because he was nine, but to Louis, the commodore always seemed larger than life. 

He stammered out the excuse that as young girls, Charlotte and Félicité would need their father around when he asked him to stay. Louis’ plump cheeks embarrassingly flushed as his voice cracked halfway through the sentence, having felt weak in front of his father during their third ever interaction. 

The commodore spared him one glimpse over the binding of his book before he patted him on his head and emotionlessly responded, “Son, I can’t do that. I have a responsibility to uphold and the sea would miss me as much as I would miss it. Go on now, see if your mother needs help with the washing up.” 

Louis had barely managed to sniff back a set of tears when he nodded in response, his head jerkily moving as he nodded in false understanding. As he clambered out of the study, Louis knew that he was asking for himself rather than the girls. He was just a boy who wanted to have his father around like the other children his age. 

Apparently, that was too much to have wanted. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, pulling Louis out of his memories that were drenched in monochromatic colors. 

“He was a heartless bastard,” Louis snorted, attempting to lighten the tension. “Honestly, I was probably better off without him.” 

“Do you really believe that?” Steve peered at him, one of his brows raised questioningly.

“Course,” Louis scoffed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If he stayed around, I would never have met you lot, now would I?” 

Steve beamed, the brown of his eyes twinkling, “You’re just saying that because of Harry.” 

Louis’ cheeks flushed, “Well he’s part of it.” He rolled his eyes and knocked their feet together, “You too, though.” 

“To think,” Steve drawled out as he rested one hand behind him on the mast, “We could have spent the last nineteen years being miserable together.” 

“Think I prefer this,” Louis’ nose twitched as he continued to kick their feet together. 

“Aye, me too.” 

_“If you ladies are done up there, we can get on with training!”_

Louis and Steve let out a staccato of cackles when they looked over the side of the mast to see Gemma on the deck with her hands cocked on her hips. Her face was a bit blurry from being so far away, but Louis had no doubt that she was sending them an unimpressed glare.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Louis huffed out on a laugh. 

“Probably.”

Easing himself back onto the shroud, Louis easily made his way back down towards the deck. His footing was confident and he found that he barely had any nerves when it came to navigating along the ship. He was a far cry from being the most agile on board, but he was learning. Steve gave him a quick wave as he descended towards the rigs below deck, leaving Louis to Gemma’s devices.

“Took you long enough,” Gemma scoffed, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it onto a nearby barrel.

“Sounds like _someone_ isn’t having a pleasant morning so far,” Louis smirked, chucking his own coat to the side. He pulled his sword from its sheath, raising it in front of him and quirked his brow, “I like the braid, though.” 

Gemma preened, her fingers running along the tail of her braid, “Oh, tha –”

Louis cut her off with a quick swipe of his right leg, knocking Gemma over and sending her onto her back. There was a familiar guffaw of laughter from behind him, Louis immediately turning towards the quarterdeck to see Harry watching them with a fond grin. 

“You little shit,” Gemma gritted from behind her teeth, kicking her foot out while Louis was distracted. 

Louis toppled over when her foot hooked around his ankle. He landed onto the deck with a muffled groan and clenched jaw. His eyes pinched shut, already defensively holding his hands up as Gemma rolled over to pin him down. 

“I hate you,” Gemma spat out. The corner of her mouth twitched, “Good move, though.”

Louis beamed, “Please, I’m your favorite unofficial in-law.” 

Gemma reared her hand back, pausing as Harry called out, “Not the face, Gem!”

Louis cackled as Gemma groaned and clambered off of him. She extended her hand and helped haul him to his feet. Harry bounded towards them, his sheer onyx tunic gently fluttering in the wind as he moved. He stopped by Louis’ side, his hand immediately moving to grip the back of his neck. Louis bit back a grin as Harry pulled him closer, firmly pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You two are repulsive,” Gemma deadpanned. 

“How many times am I going to have to tell you,” Louis dramatically huffed before he continued, “that you’re fond of me, until you believe it?” 

“At least thirty more, mate,” Liam chimmed in, stalking towards the group as he pushed a barrel of gunpowder in front of him. 

Louis eyed the barrel as it bumped into three others with a dull thud. Liam stretched his back out, raising his arms as he twisted from side to side. He wiped off a sheen of sweat from his hairline then clasped his hands together with an easy smile. 

“What’d I miss?” 

“I tripped Gemma on the first go,” Louis bragged, nearly ducking in time to miss a smack. 

“Barely,” Gemma scoffed, flicking her hand in annoyance. 

Liam patted him on the back, “Well done, Tomlinson.” 

“I think you two sods should give a hand on fight a go,” Gemma smirked, her eyes flitting between Louis and Liam. 

Louis took an immediate step back, “No way.” He cut his hands through the air, “Absolutely not.” 

Liam pouted, “Well, why not?” 

“You’re larger than a baby ox, Liam,” Louis rolled his eyes. He looked up towards Harry for support, huffing when he saw Harry was biting back his own grin. Louis cocked his hip and situated a hand on the protruding bone, “You would actually kill me without meaning to.” 

“How do you know he wouldn’t mean it?” Gemma impishly leered. 

“I wouldn’ really hurt yeh!” Liam balked, his brows furrowed together. 

Louis rubbed his hand on Liam’s back, “I know, Liam. I know.” 

“I’ll give Tomlinson a go.” 

Louis craned his neck to see Zayn pushing himself off the main mast, already shouldering off his jacket. 

“Uh…” Louis drawled out as he looked from Zayn to Liam. He gradually slid closer towards Liam’s side, “Changed my mind, I’ll take Liam.”

“Uh uh,” Zayn tutted with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He gingerly bounced his weight from foot to foot, “Come on, savvy, let’s see what you’ve learned.” 

Harry let out a sharp laugh, “Don’t go _too_ hard on him, Malik.”

“Harry!” Louis hissed between his teeth. He flailed his hands in the air with an exasperated expression, “Don’t encourage this!” 

“You wanted to practice, remember?” Harry snickered behind his palm. When Louis’ response was a sharp glare, Harry rolled his eyes and pulled him into a one armed embrace. “You can do this, little dove.” 

Louis smacked him in the chest, “Don’t _little dove_ me.” 

“What’s happenin’?”

“Great,” Louis groaned as Niall materialized out of nowhere. “A larger crowd.” 

“Tomlinson is about to have his arse handed to him,” Gemma cackled, enjoying the premise far too much for Louis’ liking. 

“Where’s Jules?” Liam asked, looking around Niall as if she was tucked behind him. 

“Tattooing Perry below deck. He wanted some Chinese symbol for water or summat,” Niall scoffed. His eyes mischievously twinkled when he tacked on, “I told her to mess it up since he’s a twat.” 

Louis cackled, the skin by his eyes pinched in delight, “What’d she say?” 

“She’s giving ‘im the symbol for ‘dong’, instead,” Niall loudly laughed. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, “She’s a good lass, that one.” 

“That she is,” Harry shook his head, fighting a pleased grin without much effort. 

“As it were,” Gemma held up her pointer finger and gestured between Zayn and Louis, “I’d like to get back to the task at hand.” 

Harry gave Louis’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Don’t forget to duck.” 

“Oh, right,” Louis scoffed, pushing himself away from Harry’s side. “Cheers, love, thanks for the insight.” 

“I love you,” Harry cooed. 

“We are never having sex again.” 

The group spread out around them, residual laughter diminishing as they left room for Zayn and Louis in the middle. Louis wearily broadened his stance, his eyes narrowed as Zayn stretched his right arm across his chest. 

“Go a bit easy on ‘im, Z,” Liam folded his arms over his chest, eyes playfully narrowing at Zayn. 

Niall cupped his hands around his mouth, “Come on, Tommo!” 

“Are we taking bets, gentlemen?” Gemma excitedly asked. 

“I mean…I ‘ave faith in Lou,” Niall put his hand over his heart, mimicking the face of sincerity before he tacked on, “But, not _that_ much.” 

“You’re really doing wonders for my confidence here, Neil,” Louis huffed out. 

“Come on gentlemen,” Harry urged, turning on his Captain voice. “Let’s have a clean fight. No swords, no pistols. I am directing that at reminder at _you_ , Malik.”

Zayn waved Harry off, “Yeah, yeah.” 

Louis raised his hands, gently switching his weight from either foot. His hands were balled into fists as he watched Zayn’s gaze harden in concentration. There was a moment when they both just stood there, sizing each other up. And then, Zayn took the first swing. 

“Fuck!” Louis sputtered out, his jaw immediately aching from the blow. 

He opened his eyes in time to see Zayn barreling towards him, his knee raised to nail Louis in the gut. Louis turned to his side and instinctively wrapped an arm around Zayn’s leg, tugging him off balance. With his upper-body strength, Louis hauled Zayn over, sending the other man onto his back. Louis went down with him, cushioning most of the fall with Zayn’s slighter frame. 

Zayn groaned as he slammed against the deck, his expression pinched as he spat, “Fucking bastard!”

Louis panted out a laugh, “Yield?” 

“Not even close,” Zayn gritted. 

Zayn thrusted his momentum forwards, flipping Louis over onto his back. Louis grunted as Zayn’s knee pressed into the center of his chest. His arms pressed back as Zayn attempted to pin them down with his sharp grip. 

“Buggering,” Louis huffed as he managed to push Zayn off of him. He clambered to his feet and hopped a few paces back, his hand rubbing against his jaw, “Fucking pirate.” 

“Alright, Louis!” Niall hooted, clapping his hands together as Zayn picked himself up off the ground. 

“Come on, Zayn! Take ‘im down!” Liam hollered, his fist pumping in the air. 

“What happened to going easy?” Harry cackled, his hands folded over his stomach. 

Liam flipped him off, “That was before he was losing to your boy.” 

“I am _not_ losing,” Zayn gritted, his eyes sharp as daggers. 

Louis carefully watched as Zayn began to circle around him. He quickly stepped back as Zayn jabbed his right fist forward, then his left. Dodging the two punches, Louis gained a bit of confidence. He rocked his weight forward and took two quick jabs, missing the first and nailing Zayn’s shoulder in the second. Zayn jumped back, lightly shaking off the punch as he continued to rock his weight back and forth. 

Zayn barreled forwards, pushing Louis flush against the main mast. The wood painfully bit into Louis’ spine, his mouth jarred as he roughly exhaled a breath. Louis pumped his knee upwards and connected it into Zayn’s side. The other pirate instantly doubled over in pain, his hands pressed against his torso. 

In his moment of disorientation, Louis gripped Zayn’s shoulders and spun him around. He turned and shoved Zayn’s front against the mast, demonstrating a maneuver that Gemma had showed him a handful of times. Pulling Zayn’s left arm behind his back, Louis twisted it and applied a slight pressure. 

“Yield,” Louis gritted out, his chest ballooning as he caught his breath. 

Zayn barred his teeth, refusing to give in. Louis huffed and applied a bit more pressure, knowing the amount of pain that was blooming in the other man’s arm. 

“Come on,” Louis urged, not wanting to severely hurt the other man. 

“Fine,” Zayn panted, his head weakly nodding. “I yield.” 

Louis immediately let go and stepped back, letting out a surprised laugh as he turned to face the group. He was met with four shocked expressions and Louis probably would have felt a bit more offended if he wasn’t so surprised himself. 

“Holy shit!” Niall yelled, breaking the silence. 

He practically galloped over towards Louis and promptly picked him up in his arms, spinning them around. Louis was cackling and pumping his fist in the air, reveling in the fact that he was able to beat Zayn in a hand to hand fight. It was probably the only type of fight he would ever be able to win against the other man, but, still. Louis would enjoy it while it lasted. 

Niall set him down, grabbed his cheeks and smacked a loud kiss against his forehead, “Fuckin’ brilliant, mate!” 

“Alright, Horan,” Harry tutted as he patted Niall on the shoulder. “Let me through.” 

Louis toothily smiled at Harry, a frenetic energy floating through him as he rocked onto his toes. He gripped Harry’s tunic, pinching the soft material with the pads of his fingers. 

“I won!” Louis giggled, feeling almost juvenile from the giddiness that coursed through him. 

Harry beamed at him as if he strung the constellations, his eyes almost becoming one of them as the golden flecks caught sunlight. He lightly cupped Louis’ jaw, his fingers warm as they pressed into Louis’ skin. 

“You did,” Harry’s dimple dipped into his cheek. He arched his neck and kissed Louis on the nose, “Have I mentioned how proud I am of you?” 

“For nearly ripping off your quartermaster’s arm?” Louis scoffed, his head titled to the side. 

Harry shook his head with a fond smile, “That too, but I was referring to how suited you are for this.”

“This?” 

“Aye,” Harry murmured, pecking Louis on the forehead. “This,” he looked around as if to gesture to the rest of the ship, “Working hard, taking what you’ve earned.” 

“It’s been a bit of a change,” Louis teased, his fingers gently prodding into Harry’s side, eliciting a breathy laugh from the other man. He kissed the supple skin underneath Harry’s jaw, mumbling against his throat, “But, I’ve adjusted.” 

Harry hummed, “That you have, little dove.” 

“Tomlinson.”

Louis pulled away from Harry’s chest, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he turned towards Zayn. He scratched the back of his neck, his head bashfully lolled to the side as he anticipated the pirate’s next words. Zayn stopped in front of him, Liam close behind as he anxiously looked between the two of them. 

Zayn gave Louis a once over before he held out his hand with a tentative smile, “Well done.”

Louis gaped, his hand immediately shooting out to meet Zayn in the middle. He firmly shook his hand before pulling him in closer, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s shoulders. Zayn let out a surprised noise, his posture going rigid for a moment before he slowly wrapped his arms around Louis’ middle. 

“What the buggerin’ fuck is this!” Niall crowed, sounding as begrudged as he probably looked. “I’ve never even gotten a hug from Malik!” 

Zayn cackled, pulling back slightly as he extended an arm. He cocked his head to the side, “Come on, Horan.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, “I won’t offer again.”

Niall barreled into them, throwing his arms around Zayn and Louis’ necks with a pleased noise. Louis felt someone press against his back and he craned his neck to see Liam joining in on the impromptu group hug. Liam shrugged his shoulders and playfully rolled his eyes as he rested his temple against Louis’ head. 

“Come on, Captain!” Niall yelled, his brash voice smattered with laughter. “This will probably never ‘appen again!”

Zayn cocked his head to the side, his expression brighter than Louis had ever seen, “Get on in here, Styles!” 

“M’ coming,” Harry laughed, stepping behind Niall as he slung his arms around the group. 

Louis looked over Niall’s head, beaming back at Harry’s lopsided grin. They all gave each other a tight squeeze, giddy rolls of laughter pushing between them as they started to rock in place. Harry let out a sharp squawk as everyone’s weight shifted back onto him. Louis’ eyes blew wide as the five men tumbled over, unceremoniously landing in a tangle of limbs and haughty cackles. 

“This – This is why we don’t do this!” Zayn stammered out between laughs, his legs flailing from underneath Niall. 

Louis rolled over onto his back, detangling his arms, but his ankles were still trapped between Liam’s calves. His cheeks hurt from laughing and tears were steadily streaming from his eyes as the men attempted to clamber off of each other. 

“Honestly,” Gemma snuffed from over them, her arms folded over his chest. “You twats are worse than a bunch of toddlers.” 

“You’re just jealous you weren’t invited,” Harry snickered, managing to haul his torso upwards. 

“Well…This isn’ what I expected to find.” 

Louis looked over his shoulder to see Jules slowly walked over towards the group, her eyebrow cocked as she took in the scene. Niall started to throw his elbows out, nailing Liam in the gut as he pushed himself free. He skipped over towards Jules’ side, his chest heaving with labored breathes as he gave her a toothy smile. 

“’Ello, sunspot,” Niall beamed. 

Jules narrowed her eyes, her posture mimicking Gemma’s, “No.” 

“C’mon,” Niall whined, his eyes impossibly wide as he jutted out his bottom lip. “Do it back.” 

A flush tinged Jules’ cheeks as she looked between the group, eventually muttering back, “’Ello, lemon drop.” 

The rest of the pirates howled with laughter, the sound carrying clear over the main deck. Louis’ fingers clutched his stomach as he attempted to catch his breath. A new set of chuckles rolling through him anytime he came close. 

“I hope you lot rot in the locker,” Jules groaned, her fingers covering her face. 

“Don’t worry, _Sunspot_ ,” Louis chirped, earning himself a pointed glare that could take down a city, “We’re laughing _with_ you.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, _little dove_.” 

Liam cackled, his cheeks ruddy as he pointed at Louis’ flushed face, “Aye, she’s got you there!” 

“Fuck off,” Louis huffed, reaching over to smack Liam upside his head. 

“What’s wrong with little dove?” Harry asked, genuine confusion causing his nose to scrunch as he looked at Louis. 

“Nothing,” Louis bit back another laugh as he thumbed Harry’s pouted lips. “Absolutely nothing.” 

****

“Now sixteen drops of this one.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Sixteen drops, Louis.” 

“Fine.”

Louis held the dropper of rose oil over the bathtub, meticulously watching as sixteen clear droplets fell from the tip and into the water. Harry was settled behind him, his arm lethargically draped around the privacy divider. As the last drop of oil dipped into the surface, Harry released a high-pitched guffaw. 

“Fucking hell!” Louis jerked forward nearly spilling the entire vial into the water. 

He whipped around to see Harry covering his mouth with his palm, a giant smile threatening to emerge from beneath his hand. Harry looked just as surprised that he let the sound out, his neck flushed crimson and pupils wide. 

Louis splashed a handful of water at him, “What was that for?!” 

“You – You actually,” Harry broke off as he released a stream of laughter, his back arching over as he rested his hands on his knees. 

Louis’ brows pulled together in confusion before he looked down at the water and realization dawned on him. 

“You bastard!” 

Harry was full blown howling as Louis reared on him, his larger hands weakly batting away Louis’ jabs. The sound was infectious, catching onto Louis as he relented his pokes. 

“Who puts exactly sixteen drops of rose oil into a bath?” Harry snickered, his irises watery as he grinned. 

“I don’t know!” Louis tossed his hands up. “You made it sound legitimate!” 

“Should have gone into theater,” Harry seriously said, schooling his expression. 

Louis gave him an unimpressed stare and turned back towards the tub, “I hope you know I will never run a bath for you again.” 

“A lifetime is quite a while for you to change your mind,” Harry grinned, looming over Louis’ shoulder to nuzzle into Louis’ neck. 

“A lifetime, hmm?” Louis breathlessly giggled as Harry’s hair tickled his skin. “That’s a bit presumptuous, Captain.” 

“You won’t spend a lifetime with me?” Harry’s voice lowered, his lips pressing wet kisses along Louis’ pulse point.

Louis’ eyes rolled back as he lolled his neck to the side to give Harry more room. His lips parted a touch as Harry’s tongue darted out to lap at his skin. He breathed out a quiet moan, his right hand reaching behind him to tangle his fingers in Harry’s curls. 

“Honey,” Harry hummed against his neck, his teeth lightly nipping Louis’ neck. 

“I could be persuaded,” Louis smirked, pressing his hips back to meet Harry’s groin. 

He could feel the quirk of Harry’s lips as they stretched into a grin against his neck. Harry brought one hand to the front of Louis’ throat as the other fanned out against Louis’ stomach. Louis lolled his head back onto Harry’s shoulder, instantly parting his lips when the pads of Harry’s fingers pressed against them. 

Harry moaned low in his throat as his index and middle finger dipped into Louis’ mouth. Closing his lips around the digits, Louis slowly flicked his tongue against them. Harry lowered his hand that rested on Louis’ torso, stopping to lazily palm Louis through his trousers. He hummed around Harry’s fingers, his hips immediately grinding forward into the firm pressure. 

“That’s it, honey,” Harry crooned as he slowly began to pump his fingers. 

Louis whined at the petname, urging himself to swallow around Harry’s fingers until his knuckles brushed his lips. He could feel Harry getting worked up, his length pressing into the dip of Louis’ spine. Raising himself onto his toes, Louis grounded his hips backwards. A guttural moan panted into the crook of Louis’ neck as Harry’s cock pressed against his arse. 

Slipping his fingers from Louis’ mouth, Harry trailed the slick digits down Louis’ chin. Louis’ eyelids were fluttered shut as he let Harry rub slick down his Adam’s apple, stopping just above his collarbones. Harry pressed the heel of his palm against the hilt of Louis’ shaft, eliciting a breathy gasp in response. 

“Want to get you in my bath,” Harry hummed, his lips dragging against Louis’ neck. “Feel you nice and wet against me.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis whimpered, nodding his head at Harry’s words.

Harry stepped back and fisted his fingers into the hem of Louis’ tunic, pulling the flimsy material over his head. Louis spun around and tugged Louis’ shirt off, his fingers anxious to dance across milky skin. He ducked forward and mouthed over Harry’s swallow tattoos, shimmying his hips from side to side as Harry pushed his trousers down his thighs. Louis kicked them off his ankles, bringing his mouth back to finish undressing Harry. 

Harry firmly gripped Louis’ jaw and seared their lips together. Louis fell into the touch, aligning their fronts together as he tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair. Titling his head to the side, Harry coaxed Louis’ mouth open. When their tongues pressed against one another, Louis felt sparks ignite along the base of his spine. He tugged on Harry’s tresses, instantly rewarded with a whimper from Harry and filthy grind of his hips. 

“Honey,” Harry mewled against Louis’ lips, pulling back to rest their foreheads together. He weakly nodded, “Bath. Now.” 

Louis brushed his lips against the corner of Harry’s mouth before stepping back. Harry climbed into the tub first, situating his back flush against the tub as his thighs parted. He held out a hand and guided Louis as he stepped in. With a hand against Louis’ hip, Harry turned him to face forwards. Louis sank down and settled himself between Harry’s thighs, leaning back against Harry’s chest. 

“God, look at you,” Harry praised as his fingers roamed over Louis’ chest. He brushed the pad of his thumb against Louis’ left nipple as he murmured, “Could do this all night.”

“Shit,” Louis arched his back, his face tucked into the crook of Harry’s neck. “Keep doing that.” 

Harry lightly tweaked both of his nipples, “Like that?”

Louis’ bottom lip was trapped between his teeth as he shakily nodded. Bathwater lapped against his skin as he slid his hands over Harry’s thighs, needing to grab purchase as Harry worked him over. Harry rolled his nimble fingers over the sensitive buds, expertly eliciting a litany of whimpers from Louis. 

Louis was mindlessly grinding his hips backwards into Harry’s hard one, reveling in the feeling of Harry pressed between his cheeks. One of Harry’s hands slid down the length of Louis’ abdomen, moving to wrap around Louis’ cock. 

“Yes,” Louis hissed between his teeth as euphoria blossomed in the pit of his gut. 

Harry slowly began to jerk him off, his fist easily gliding over Louis’ cock in the water. With every wake, the perfume of rose petals filtered through the air. Louis titled his head and kissed along Harry’s neck, pausing to suckle faint bruises into his fair skin. Harry fist alternated between quick firm tugs and lethargic twists, each movement on the verge of intoxicating. 

“Harry,” Louis whined when Harry rolled his fingers over his cockhead. 

“Again,” Harry exhaled against Louis’ temple. “Say my name again.” 

Louis roughly nipped his teeth, lathing over the indents before he exhaled a weak, “ _Harry_.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Harry moaned, his hips bucking forward in pace with his fist. 

Harry flicked his finger over Louis’ nipple as he bucked the tip of his knuckles against Louis’ balls. Louis’ eyes shot open as his thighs began to tremble, the friction of Harry’s fingers along his length on the verge of too much as he climbed to the edge. 

“M’ gonna come like this if you don’t stop,” Louis rushed out. 

Harry nodded, his thighs squeezing against Louis’, “Do you want to come like this?” 

Louis bit his bottom lip, his brain nearing useless as Harry slowed the pace of his hand as it tugged him off. He shook his head, his voice dying in his throat as Harry tightly gripped the base of his cock. A pitiful whimper dripped from Louis’ lips as his toes curled underwater, his staved orgasm somewhere on the brink of being too much and not nearly enough. 

When Harry was sure that Louis wasn’t going to come, he lowered his hand cup Louis’ balls. He gently rolled them between his capable fingers, pulling a litany of sighs from Louis. Harry dropped his head and lightly nipped at Louis’ shoulder, causing Louis to buck his hips upwards. A bit of water lapped over the lip of the bathtub, splashing onto the floorboards.

“Watch it,” Harry teased, his fingers faintly squeezing Louis’ balls. “Won’t be much of a bath if all the water spills out.” 

Louis groaned as Harry hooked his calves over Louis’ legs, keeping him from jerking upwards. Harry slid his hand lower, pausing to massage the length of his fingers against Louis’ perineum. 

“Christ,” Louis let out a whine as he ground his hips downwards. 

“So soft here,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ damp skin. 

Louis’ chest flushed ruby, his cock twitching against his abdomen at Harry’s words. Harry hummed against his shoulder as he slipped his index finger towards Louis’ rim. The pressure he worked over Louis’ entrance was maddening as he alternated between slow circles and teasing dips. Louis’ chest ballooned with every breath, his jaw slack at the shakily exhaled into Harry’s neck. 

“Want to come like this?” Harry asked as he pressed the tip of his finger inside of Louis. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis jerkily nodded. “Wanna come like that.” 

“I want you to come like this,” Harry pressed his finger in deeper, his voice turning gruff. “Want to feel you come on my fingers.” 

“Oh my god,” Louis throatily groaned, his eyes pinched shut as he inhaled through his nose. 

Harry’s mouth quirked as he started to slowly pump his finger, “You like it when I talk?”

Louis instantly nodded, his cheeks burning from a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. Harry knew exactly what he was doing, the low grumble of his voice sending sparks of lust down Louis’ spine. Harry’s wrist was crooked as he fucked his finger into Louis, slowly working him open. 

“Say it.”

“Ugh,” Louis groaned, his hips swiveling down onto Harry’s hand. 

Harry pulled his finger out, teasingly tracing it around Louis’ rim. 

“ _Say it_.”

Louis whined as he instinctively adjusted his hips to get Harry’s finger back inside of him. Harry tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his strong legs tightening their hold to pin Louis down. He let out a frustrated groan as he tried to lift his legs without any prevail. 

“Fine, yes,” Louis whimpered, feeling slightly delusional. “I like it when – _fuck_ ,” he broke off as Harry quickly slid his finger back inside of him. 

“Keep going,” Harry instructed, keeping his finger still. 

“I like it when you talk,” Louis babbled, caution tossed out of the window as neediness overrode his impulses. “Love it,” Louis corrected, “Such a – _shit_ – bloody attractive voice.” 

Harry crooked his finger and pressed directly into Louis’ prostate, a pleased hum reverberating from low in his throat as Louis went pliant against him. He swirled his finger in tight circles, coaxing Louis’ orgasm with every sure press. 

“Still don’t know if you want to spend a lifetime with me?” Harry taunted as he pressed the tip of his middle finger against Louis’ rim. 

“Harry,” Louis moaned, his teeth bared against Harry’s pulse point. 

“Need more convincing?” 

“Fucking hell,” Louis’ hips jerked as Harry fucked two fingers inside of him. 

Harry breathlessly huffed out a laugh as he pumped his fingers, “Think I can give you a bit more.” 

Louis didn’t know if his body could possible handle _more_ , but he found himself nodding along anyways. He was helpless underneath Harry’s ministrations and there was a part of him that would always be hungry for whatever Harry would give him. 

Gently, Harry pulled his fingers out and Louis was not particularly proud of the keening sound that tore through his throat in response. Harry soothed his hands over the insides of Louis’ thighs before lightly pinching them. 

“Stand up for me, little dove.”

Louis craned his neck to look at Harry, “What?”

Harry grinned as his right eyebrow lifted, “Trust me, yeah?” 

“I think we have different definitions of what ‘more’ means,” Louis grumbled. 

He felt Harry’s gush of laughter against his neck as he leaned forwards. Louis’ legs felt wobbly as he stood upwards, his hands slightly flailing out. 

“Careful,” Harry mumbled as he shifted to his knees, warm water creating ripples around his torso. He lightly looped his fingers around Louis’ wrists and brought them to his shoulders, placing Louis’ palms there. “Hold on to me,” he thumbed at the bones of Louis’ wrists before he let go. 

Louis nodded as he steadied himself, his fingers melding to Harry’s skin. Harry ran his hands along Louis’ right leg, gently lifting it out of the water by the crook of his knee. A surprised giggle spouted out of Louis as he rested his weight onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry set the arch of Louis’ foot against the lip of the bathtub, his fingers feeling as if they were butter against his skin. Louis lolled his head back as he felt Harry’s mouth begin to trail along the inside of his thigh, slowly pressing kisses towards his groin. He breathily mewled as Harry started to suckle a bruise into the sensitive skin. 

“You smell like roses,” Harry moaned out, his tongue darting out to taste Louis’ skin. 

Louis flushed as he felt Harry deeply inhale against his inner thigh, his nose rubbing against the sparse downy hairs. He shifted one hand to tangle in Harry’s hair, his nails lightly scratching at his scalp as Harry turned the inside of his thigh the loveliest shade of purple. Harry let out an appreciative groan and nipped at Louis’ skin. 

“I’ll never tire of this,” Harry admitted, turning his chin upwards to look at Louis. He dropped a kiss against Louis’ hipbone, “Never tire of having you.”

“Why is it that you say the loveliest things when my cock is out in front of you?” Louis smirked, his fingers playfully tugging Harry’s dampened curls.

“What can I say,” Harry dopily grinned as he wrapped one arm around Louis’ lifted leg. “Your lovely cock makes me feel poetic.”

Louis laughed and rolled his eyes, “Leave the poetry to Pope, Styles.”

Harry gave him an unimpressed look as he brought his free hand to palm Louis’ arse. He gave the thick muscle of his left cheek as squeeze. 

“Do not compare my cock sonnets to Alexander Pope.” 

Louis’ nose scrunched as he let out a sharp cackle, “Oh? And why not?” 

“Never favored his technique,” Harry playfully nipped at Louis’ hip, eliciting a stream of giggles from Louis. 

“I dare say I agree,” Louis tilted his head to the side, his eyes fluttering shut as Harry breathed over his heavy cock. “More of a Dryden man, myself.”

Harry throatily moaned, “Love it when you talk dirty, honey.”

“You are ridiculo – _Oh_ …”

Louis gasped when Harry sucked his cockhead between his plush lips. His hand automatically tightened in Harry’s hair, eyes locked on the sight of Harry swallowing around him. As Harry ducked his head forward, he slipped a finger between Louis’ cheeks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis rattled out in one breath as Harry teased the pad of his finger around his rim. 

Harry pulled back, his lips looking poutier than before as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. Louis gaped at him, watching as the other man messily slicked his fingers before bringing them back to Louis’ entrance. A shiver trilled down Louis’ spine at the wet press of Harry’s fingers, anticipating the feeling before he dipped inside. Harry looked up at Louis from underneath his eyelashes, flicking him a quick wink before he wrapped his lips around him while pushing his index finger past Louis’ rim. 

Louis blacked out as he felt Harry hollow his cheeks in sync with his finger fucking into him. His nails dug into Harry’s shoulder, his hips bucking forwards while simultaneously begging to push down on Harry’s finger. Bolts of heat shot through his bloodstream as Harry bobbed his head, slick dripping from Louis’ hilt and along his balls. 

It wasn’t long before Harry was opening him with two fingers, mercilessly crooking them as he swirled his tongue against Louis’ slit. Louis’ body felt as if it was composed of an erratic smatter of lightning, every sense heightened as sparks ignited at the base of his spine. 

He could feel when Harry crossed his fingers, twisting them into a corkscrew as he unwound Louis bit by bit. Louis released his hold in Harry’s tresses, sliding his thumb to press against the corner of Harry’s mouth. He thumbed a bead of spit and brought it to his lips, Harry’s watery eyes following the motion. Harry moaned around his cock as Louis sucked his finger past his lips. 

Once his thighs began to quiver, Harry fucked into Louis with a particular rough jab of his fingers. He pressed directly into Louis’ prostate as he opened his throat to swallow Louis down to his hilt. Louis’ pupils blew out when he felt Harry’s bottom lip brush against his balls. 

“Har – Harry,” Louis weakly moaned out, his name sputtering out with a choppy breath as he felt his orgasm unfurl. 

Harry’s hummed around Louis as he came, lapping his come as it blurted out in heavy ropes onto his tongue. His fingers slowly pulled out, immediately soothing into Louis’ arse with gentle pressed of his palms. 

“Don’t swallow,” Louis rushed out as he shakily lowered himself. 

Harry’s hooded gaze widened as Louis kneeled in front of him. Louis cupped his jaw, leaning forward until his mouth hovered over Harry’s. He thumbed Harry’s bottom lip and ducked forward, his mouth already open as he went in for a kiss. Louis wasn’t positive who moaned louder when he licked inside to taste himself on Harry’s tongue. 

The tip of Louis’ tongue curled as he flicked it against Harry’s, swallowing himself with a whimper. Harry firmly gripped Louis’ biceps, his head tilting to the side as he pushed more of Louis’ come off his tongue. It was the most erotic and filthiest thing that Louis had ever done and he didn’t regret a single moment of it. 

Their tongues slid together in deep kisses until Louis’ taste had all but diminished, the sweet tinge of honey faintly remnant in their mouths. Louis lowered his palms to the front of Harry’s chest, his fingers brushing over Harry’s pert nipples. Harry suckled on Louis’ tongue as he rolled the sensitive nubs between the pads of his fingers. Louis leaned back to rest their foreheads together, wet pants sifting between them as Louis continued to work his fingers over Harry’s chest. 

“What do you want?” Louis rasped out, dipping forward to press a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips. 

“Shit,” Harry whimpered as Louis lightly pinched his right nipple. He tucked his face into Louis’ neck, mouthing against the skin as he said, “Anything.”

“I could…” Louis drawled out as he lolled his head to the side, reveling in the soft kisses being adorned over his neck, “lick you out for a while.”

Harry instantly nodded, “Fuck, _please_.”

“You really like that, don’t you?” Louis asked, his hands lowering to rest on Harry’s thighs. “When I lick you out?” 

“I do,” Harry quietly admitted before pressed another kiss over the junction of Louis’ neck. 

Louis tilted his head to capture Harry’s lips with his own, slowly smacking them together as he brushed his knuckle along the inside of Harry’s thigh. 

“Like the feeling of me between your legs?” Louis quietly asked, his finger inching closer towards Harry’s entrance. 

Harry’s rose petal lips parted as his eyes widened. He nodded and gradually spread his thighs wider until his knees bracketed the side of the tub. Louis flipped his wrist and watched Harry’s expression when he pressed his index fingers against his rim. 

“Or,” Louis trailed out, applying a bit of pressure against Harry’s rim, “I could do this…”

Louis felt his own heart rabbit inside his chest as he pushed the tip of his finger past Harry’s tight rim. Harry’s jaw slackened, his hands fisting into Louis’ hair as a shaky exhale puffed out of his lips. Louis pressed further, feeling his own cock twitch in interest as he slowly pumped his finger. 

“Honey,” Harry’s voice cracked on the second syllable when Louis’ knuckle nudged his stretched rim. 

“So warm,” Louis panted as he surged forward to firmly kiss Harry. He moaned at the feeling of Harry’s walls pressing against his finger, “Feels so good, Treacle.” 

“Shit,” Harry whimpered, a crease pulled between his brows. 

Louis started off with slow pumps of his finger, his eyes trained on Harry’s expression for any sign of discomfort. When he didn’t see any, he pressed his second finger in along with the first. His mouth watered as Harry dropped his head back in ecstasy, his hips canting onto Louis’ fingers. 

“Fuck, I love you,” Louis rushed out, speeding up his ministrations as Harry started to let out a string of airy whimpers. 

Harry snapped his head forwards to pant, “Love you, too. So fucking much.” 

Louis experimentally crooked his fingers on the next few thrusts of his fingers, searching for the spot that would set off a crackle of pleasure through Harry’s body. He knew the moment that he brushed against his prostate, a guttural moan ripping through Harry’s throat. Louis’ eyes widened as he felt Harry’s rim constrict around his fingers, imagining how incredible it would feel around his length. 

“God, do I want to make love to you,” Louis whispered, the words tumbling out on their own accord. 

His hand paused as he realized what he said, his eyes darting towards Harry’s blown out pupils. 

“Yeah?” Harry breathlessly asked. 

“I mean,” Louis gasped, fumbling over his words, “Well, if you wanted to, of course. But, um, I –”

Harry surged forward and kissed Louis, his mouth frenetically pressing into Louis’ as he seared kiss after kiss against his lips. 

“I want that,” Harry quickly said, his cheeks flushed as the desperate tone. 

“You sure?” Louis carefully asked, slowly slipping his fingers out of Harry. 

Harry nodded and leaned forward so his lips brushed against the shell of Louis’ ear. Louis’ eyelids gently shut as Harry gently tugged his earlobe between his teeth. Harry let it go with a faint pinch, eliciting a whimper from Louis’ mouth. 

“ _I want you to make love to me_.”

Louis felt as if his heart was about to burst in his chest as he let out a shaky breath. He opened his eyes and pulled Harry’s face in front of his so he could kiss him. He sucked on Harry’s bottom lip, his tongue darting out to flick against the plush skin. Harry was unusually pliant underneath him as he took every brush of their lips. It wasn’t possible to convey all of Louis’ feelings into words, let alone a kiss, but he did his best as he wetly smacked their lips together. 

“Bed?” Louis quietly asked, not wanting to break the delicate moment that enraptured them. 

Harry nodded, a soft smile stretching his lips, “Yeah, bed.” 

Louis stood up first, slightly shivering as he stepped out of the tub, water droplets clinging to his skin as he moved. Harry followed suit, his long limbs glistening from the water and rose oil. Their fingers tangled together as they both reached out to another, both desperate for the other’s touch. 

Harry climbed onto the bed first and laid on his back, tugging a pillow under his hips. Louis’ lips parted as Harry bashfully let his thighs fall open, his skin tinging a rosy pink as he looked back at Louis. 

“You’re beautiful,” Louis whispered as he kneeled on the bed, situating himself between Harry’s legs. He spat on his hand and rubbed the slick over Harry’s entrance, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“Shut it,” Harry choked out, his eyes getting a bit misty. 

“It’s true,” Louis hummed, licking his hand to wet his length. 

Louis gave himself a few tugs and then situated himself between Harry’s parted thighs. The head of his cock pressed against Harry’s rim, causing Harry to shiver underneath him. 

“Are you okay?” Louis whispered as he loomed over Harry’s chest, his hand rested next to his head on the mattress. 

Harry’s bottom lip was tugged between his teeth as he nodded and then quietly answered, “I haven’t…Uh…Well, you know.” 

“You haven’t?” Louis’ eyes widened. 

Harry was impossibly flushed under Louis’ attention as he shrugged, “I mean…It was important to me to wait. Like…You know,” He rolled his fingers through the air, eventually resting them over Louis’ heart, “Wait for someone important.” 

“And you want me?” 

“For a lifetime, remember?” Harry weakly joked. 

Louis sniffed back a choked laugh, ducking his neck to lay a kiss over Harry’s heart. He pursed his lips and felt Harry shudder underneath him. Harry’s heart palpitated under his mouth and Louis could not fathom how he had managed to sink into love so deeply. 

“Aye,” Louis pressed another kiss. He looked up to meet Harry’s warm gaze, “I remember.” 

Harry lifted his legs and wrapped them over Louis’ lower back, his heel pressed against the last knot of Louis’ spine. Louis lowered his upper-body to his forearms so he was bracketing Harry’s head. He bowed his head and pressed their foreheads together as he pushed his hips forwards. 

Louis cupped Harry’s jaw as he sunk into him, their breaths comingling into a mixture of pants and faint moans. Harry was incredibly tight around his length, his walls smooth like velvet as his body adjusted. Louis’ thighs trembled as he slowly bottomed out, doing everything he could to make sure he didn’t hurt Harry. 

“Oh god,” Harry whimpered, his chest ballooning out as Louis’ hips cradled his arse. 

“I know,” Louis nodded against him. He kissed Harry’s cheek, “Are you okay?”

Harry nodded while he adjusted his hips, “Yeah, just – _Shit_ , give me a second.” 

“Course,” Louis’ voice pinched. 

As he waited for Harry to get comfortable, Louis slowly worked kisses over his skin. He wanted Harry to be able to feel just how much Louis loved him, what he would do for him given a chance. Louis nosed against Harry’s neck, sucking a kiss into the sweet skin. He lathed over the spot with his tongue, humming as he felt Harry swivel his hips. 

“Okay,” Harry panted as he experimentally ground his hips downwards. His eyes rolled back as he moaned, “Fuck, okay, that’s good.” 

Louis pulled his hips back and then shallowly pumped them forwards. The fiction of Harry’s tight walls around his cock was intoxicating as Louis fucked into him. A litany of moans freely flowed from Harry’s mouth, his lips obscenely red from being pulled between his teeth. Louis ducked forwards and swiped his tongue against the pillowed skin, eliciting a needy whimper from Harry. 

Harry craned his neck and sloppily kissed Louis, their tongues wetly smacking together as Louis’ thrusts became deeper. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the cabin, only spurring Louis on to piston his hips in quick succession. 

“Just – Ah, _fuck_. Just like that,” Harry gritted out, his nails scratching angry red marks along Louis’ chest. 

“Yeah?” Louis panted as he tiled his hips towards the left on the next thrust. 

Harry’s back obscenely arched against the mattress and his voice shot halfway through a moan. His cock jerked between their abdomens, precome smearing against their skin. Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s length and began to tug him off in sync with his thrusts. 

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis mewled as the head of his cock rocked against Harry’s prostate. He sucked a kiss against Harry’s neck, “Look so fucking lovely this this.” 

“Gonna come,” Harry weakly whined, his voice raw and nearly unrecognizable as he clung onto Louis. His head tucked into Louis’ bicep, “M’ already gonna come.”

“Come on, Treacle,” Louis nodded and quickened the spiral of his wrist between their bodies. He could feel his hair matting against his forehead as he frantically worked Harry over, “Come for me, love.” 

Harry’s thighs twitched around Louis’ waist, his rim impossibly tight as he clenched around the base of Louis’ cock. Louis slammed his hips forwards, his eyes rolling back as he roughly bottomed out. That was all it took for Louis to feel Harry’s cock pulsate in his hand, warm come coating his fingers and their abdomens. 

“Lou,” Harry whimpered into his skin, his chest puffing out from labored breaths. 

Louis gingerly slid his cock out of Harry and then quickly began to tug himself off. His eyes were focused on Harry’s glassy gaze, his hand bringing him closer to his orgasm with rough tugs. Harry petted at his cheeks, his hooded eyelids making him look like something straight out of Louis’ fantasies. 

“Oh, fuck,” Louis gritted out, his eyes pinching shut as he felt his balls tighten. “Shit, shit, shit,” He rambled off as he came onto Harry’s stomach. 

“Shit,” Harry brokenly moaned as he looked at their come that painted his abdomen. 

Louis slowed his hand as he finished milking his orgasm, his movements becoming languid from his almost drunken haze. Harry’s fingers were roaming over Louis’ face, seeming to be unable to stop touching him. Louis turned his head into Harry’s palm and pressed a kiss against the salty skin. 

“I love you,” Louis whispered, his lips pursing against Harry’s palm. He lowered his head and kissed over Harry’s thrumming pulse point in his neck, “I love you.” Louis nosed down his sternum, pausing just above where their come smattered together, “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Harry reverently exhaled, his fingers carding into Louis’ hair. 

Louis dipped his tongue against the warm pool above Harry’s navel, lapping up their taste with a slow stroke. The unintelligible noise Harry made in response was enough for Louis to continue cleaning him with his mouth. At the last bit, Louis swirled his tongue into his navel and then shuffled up the length of Harry’s body. 

Harry’s mouth was already opened, his pink tongue darted out as Louis pressed their come into his mouth. A sated moan reverberated from Harry’s mouth and into Louis’ as they lazily slid their tongues together, slow and purposeful kisses molding into each other with every press of their lips.

Louis rested on his side, his leg snugly pressed between Harry’s thighs as they continued to adorn each other’s lips with affection. Harry’s nimble fingers lightly caressed Louis’ back, trailing from his shoulders to the curve of his spine. Any hurriedness had been abandoned as exhaustion washed over the two men. 

“That was incredible,” Harry murmured against the corner of Louis’ mouth. 

“You are incredible,” Louis quietly said, his fingers dancing over Harry’s chest. 

Harry kissed the height of Louis’ cheekbone, “You forget yourself, little dove.” 

An airy giggle huffed out of Louis as he rested his head on the mattress. He sleepily blinked as Harry turned onto his side, mirroring Louis’ position. Their hands tangled between their bodies, eyes locked on another. 

Louis kissed Harry’s knuckles, his voice nearly inaudible, “Can we just stay like this a while?” 

“Aye,” Harry nodded, shuffling forward to kiss Louis’ knuckles. “As long as you want, little dove.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth playfully quirked, “A lifetime?” 

The ethereal beam he received in response was all the answer he needed. 

****

“Can I do it?” 

Harry paused where his hands were rubbing a lather of cream over his cheeks and neck. He cocked his eyebrow at Louis and cautiously lowered his fingers. 

“You want to shave me?” 

“I do.”

“Have you ever shaved your own face let alone someone else’s?” 

“No, I have not.”

Harry let out a sharp cackle, shaking his head as continued to lather his skin, “No, absolutely not.” 

“Just because I haven’t done it before, doesn’t mean I can’t learn,” Louis whined and petulantly kicked his heel against the bed.

Harry sighed and paused for a moment before he resolutely waved Louis over, “Fine. No time like the present I suppose.” 

A pleased sound tittered from Louis’ lips as he pushed himself off of the mattress and walked over to where Harry was sitting. He sat on the table nestled in Harry’s cabin and rested his feet on the tops of Harry’s thighs. 

“I’ll try not to kill you,” Louis beamed. 

Harry groaned as he hesitantly passed Louis his razorblade. The gleaming silver winked back at Louis when he held it up towards the candelabra. It was impeccably sharp and Louis knew that while he was joking, he genuinely did have to be mindful of Harry’s neck. 

“Right,” Harry delicately wrapped his hand over Louis’ and brought it towards his jaw. “Gentle upward strokes, you don’t need to press too hard. Actually, please press as light as you possibly can. I’d like to at least make it _to_ the battle tonight.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “You’ll make it in time to destroy the navy, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“Technically you wouldn’t be able to hold me to anything if I did kill you.”

“ _Louis_.”

“Right, bad joke. Apologies.”

With his hand still covering Louis, Harry brought the razor against the dusting of hair along his chin. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he dragged the blade upwards, removing the cream and hair with the stroke. Louis’ eyebrows were pulled together in concentration as he carefully pulled his hand back when it was just under the line of Harry’s bottom lip. 

Harry released his bottom lip and picked up the clean rag he had set aside on the tabletop. He wiped of the excess cream from the blade and then handed it back to Louis. Harry circled his hands around Louis’ ankles and lightly rubbed his thumb against the soft skin. 

Louis rested one hand on Harry’s shoulder as he brought the razorblade back to Harry’s skin. His tongue was slightly poked out of his mouth while he shaved another stripe. He happily hummed to himself as he wiped the cream off. Harry remained still as Louis slowly continued on, neither men speaking while Louis worked the blade over Harry’s jawline.

“And…” Louis dramatically drawled out once he pulled the razor away, “We’re done!” 

Harry opened his eyes and grinned at Louis, his hands releasing their hold around Louis’ ankles. He made an appreciative sound as he rubbed his hands over his clean face, seemingly pleased with the Louis’ job.

“Might have you do that more often,” Harry hummed, craning his neck upwards and pouting his lips. 

Louis ducked down and kissed Harry in three quick successions. He leaned back and set the razor on the damp rag, his toes slightly curling into the material of Harry’s trousers. 

“Now what?” Louis asked, turning back to rub his hands over Harry’s chest. “What other pre-battle rituals should I know about?”

A lopsided grin tugged at Harry’s lips as he nodded towards the vial of oil by Louis’ side. Louis twisted his abdomen and picked up the vial, popping off the stopper before he held it under his nose. His eyes rolled back as he inhaled, the fresh smell of roses filling his senses. 

Harry wordlessly titled his neck to the side, exposing his pulse point. Taking the hint, Louis dabbed the oil against his milky skin, repeating the action on the other side. Louis arched his spine and nosed over Harry’s neck, lightly moaning as he sniffed over the floral skin. 

“Smell so good,” Louis whispered. 

“Christ,” Harry groaned before he squeezed Louis’ thighs in a warning. “If you keep that up, you’ll get me going and we don’t have the time for that, honey.” 

Louis’ bottom lip jutted out and he pulled away, “Later.”

Harry seriously nodded, “Later.”

“Anything else?”

“Charcoal.” 

“Where’s that?” Louis asked, looking around him for a small tin.

Harry turned around and reached along the desk behind him, his fingers dancing over different baubles until they settled on a circular pot and a paintbrush. With both items in hand, Harry passed them to Louis. 

“Just a rim around my eyes,” Harry quietly instructed before he let his eyelids lull shut.

Louis dipped the tip of the brush into the pot, dabbing the bristles into charcoal before he pulled back. He cupped Harry’s jaw with his left hand and then carefully painted the smoky black substance over his lids. Small puffs of air tickled Louis’ wrist as he reached over Harry’s mouth to get the other eye. Louis bit into his bottom lip, fighting back a giggle as Harry’s continued to huff out small breaths. 

“Open.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at him. Louis quickly leaned down and pecked his lips, unable to resist. Harry made a pleased sound from the back of his throat, the pads of his fingers digging into Louis’ thighs. 

“What was that for?” Harry mumbled when Louis pulled back to get more charcoal on the brush. 

Louis shrugged one of his shoulders, “Because I love you.”

“Oh,” Harry dopily exhaled. 

“Do I need a different reason?”

“No,” Harry quietly laughed, shaking his head from side to side. “No, you don’t.” 

Louis bit back a smile, “Close your eyes then, I’m trying to make you look all lovely for tonight.” 

“Are you implying that I didn’t look lovely before, Tomlinson?” Harry cocked his eyebrow. 

“Aye,” Louis deadpanned. 

Harry snorted and pinched Louis’ leg, “Twat.” 

“Love you, too.”

Louis leaned back in and carefully patted the head of the brush underneath Harry’s waterline, making sure not to get the charcoal in his eyes. He quietly hummed something nonsensical under his breath as he carried along, only pulling away once he was satisfied. Harry blinked at him, the emerald of his eyes extremely prominent as it was surrounded by the onyx color. Louis found himself almost taken aback as Harry’s gaze bore back into his own. Shaking himself out of his, Louis fought of a blush and cleared his throat. 

“Well?” Harry expectantly drawled out, his smirk telling that he knew what Louis was thinking. “How do I look, little dove?”

“Given that I had to deal with you as my muse,” Louis teased, earning himself a quick slap in the gut in response, “I’d say you look half decent, Captain.” 

“ _Half decent_?” Harry crowed, his irises shimmering with mirth. 

“Aye,” Louis chirped and folded his arms over his chest. “ _Half decent_.”

Harry stood from his chair and stepped between Louis’ parted legs, kicking his chair back with a just of his leg. Louis dryly swallowed as Harry cradled his jaw and tilted his head to the side. Louis smirked as he mirrored him, purposefully trying to get a rise out of the other man. 

“I remember a time when you were much nicer to me,” Harry snuffed, removing his hands to fold them over his chest. “Alas, those days are behind us.” 

Louis rolled his eyes and leaned forward to smack a kiss against Harry’s lips, drawing a startled laugh from Harry. 

“You look beautiful,” Louis murmured.

A dimple appeared by Harry’s mouth, “Right, that wasn’t forced at all.” 

“Nope,” Louis beamed. “Not even a little bit.” 

“And you call me ridiculous,” Harry mumbled as he leaned forward to kiss Louis.

Louis easily nodded, “I stand by that.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Harry mused as he nosed along Louis’ jawline. 

“I know,” Louis grinned. “Imagine if Perry captured someone else that night.” 

Harry grinned against his skin, “I’ll have to promote him.” 

Louis let out a sharp laugh, “Oh, really?” 

“Aye,” Harry mumbled as he nipped at Louis’ neck. He leaned back, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Louis’ cheeks turned crimson at the sudden change of sincerity. He looked down between their bodies, his fingers reaching out to lightly tug at Harry’s tunic. Harry leaned into his touch, a low hum reverberating from his chest. There were times where Louis felt as if it was on the brink of being too much. That his feelings towards Harry were too bold and he needed to reel them back in. But then, Harry would make comments like that which continued to set every atom inside of Louis’ body aflame with adoration. It could never be _too_ much.

He looked up and gently thumbed Harry’s bottom lip, any sarcasm rid from his expression as he admitted, “You’re the best thing to happen to me, too.” 

****

Louis anxiously shifted his weight from foot to foot, wind howling around him as the sun collapsed along the horizon. His eyes were locked onto the space between Harry’s shoulder blades as he spoke to Niall at the wheel of the sip. The rest of the crew was eerily quiet as they stood along the main deck, everyone watching with craned necks for their orders. Louis was vaguely aware of Jules rubbing light circles into the center of his back, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything other than Harry. 

His spine went rigid as Harry nodded and turned to face the company. Harry’s shoulders were pulled back in a sign of authority, his eyes narrowing while he looked over the deck. The crew slightly shuffled forwards when Harry climbed onto the banister of the quarterdeck with practiced ease. Louis tugged his bottom lips between his thumb and forefinger as Harry easily balanced himself on the balls of his feet. Harry’s eyes fell on him, softening for a fraction of a moment before they turned cold. 

“Tonight,” Harry began, his voice clear as it blanketed the sea, “Tonight we punish those who have forsaken us as nothing more than sopping bilge swine.”

There was an electric current building through the crew as they nodded, grumbles of agreement seeping through the air. 

“Tonight is the night that we take salvation for our own and plunder those who stand in our path!” Harry’s timbre deepened with every word. He slowly paced along the banister, “For too long The Royal Navy has staked a claim into our honor! For too long, those bastards have stepped on us because they hold a piece of shine with the King’s crest!” 

The crew yelled in response, a few unsheathing their swords to thrust them in the air. Louis felt pride and something close to excitement as he listened to Harry’s speech. There was something ironically regal about the way he was able to command the group with his words and affirmative stance. It was enthralling to be a part of and Louis found himself sinking into every word that dripped from Harry’s lips. 

“You know what, men?” Harry shouted, his mouth twisting into a snarl. “I don’t give a _fuck_ about their shoddy shine!” 

Harry jumped off of the quarterdeck and swiftly landed on his feet, eliciting a roar of cheers from the crew. He strode towards the main mast, easily cutting through the crowd as they parted for him. Louis lifted himself onto the balls of his feet as he watched Harry climb onto the base of the thick banister. 

“We will reap them of everything they own,” Harry cut his hand through the air, his eyes tracing over the sea of faces that looked back at him. “We will reign hell fire and watch as their legacy crumbles into the locker with their sorry arses!” 

“Tonight,” Harry paused, waiting for the men’s shouts to dissipate, “Tonight I call on all of you, but you will not fight for me.” Harry shook his head, “No, tonight you will fight for the freedom they tried to rob you of!” 

Along with the rest of the crew, Louis unsheathed his blade and let out a sharp cry into the misty air. It felt as if he was swept in the center of a thunderstorm, gruff voices shattering together in the night sky like lightning bolts as their captain led them into the biggest battle of their lives. 

“Gentlemen,” Harry held out his hands, tacking on, “And women…”

“Good on ‘im,” Jules nodded next to Louis, dragging his gaze from Harry long enough to shoot her a grin. 

Harry drew his sword, the biting metal ringing over the deck as he raised it above his head. The moonlight caught the shimmering silver, reflecting an eerily ethereal glow onto Harry’s skin. Anticipation was palpable as Harry looked down onto the crew with a swell of courage that caused Louis’ heart to stutter in his chest. 

“Tonight they will remember the sound of our cannons and the taste of our pistols as we _take them down_!”

“Aye!” The crew screamed in a blistering unison. 

“Strike the colors!” Harry jumped off of the post and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Take your posts and follow direct orders only from Malik or myself!”

“Captain!” Liam shouted, pushing through the throng of men. 

Harry turned on his heel to face him, his brow expectantly quirked, “Aye, Payne?” 

“Are we taking prisoners?”

Movement around them halted as the crew waited for a response. Louis could see the moment Harry decided his answer. Any residual softness in his features ebbed away into harsh contours as his cheeks hollowed. 

“We give no quarter.” 

Louis roughly swallowed as Harry’s command reverberated through the crew. After a moment, the crews’ hustle doubled, everyone eagerly shuffling towards their posts as they approached Caicos. Louis shoved his way towards Harry, elbowing past crewmen with bared teeth as he barreled through. 

He stopped in front of Harry and let out a soft exhale. Raising his eyebrow pointedly, Louis said, “I hope you know I’m going with you this time.” 

Harry nodded and tangled their fingers together. He brought Louis’ knuckles to his mouth and kissed over the five knots. Louis stepped closer towards him, nerves tumbling inside his gut as the world seemed to whirl around them. 

“I know,” Harry quietly said, his tone a stark contrast to how it was only minutes earlier. He lowered Louis’ hand, his thumb lightly rubbing of Louis’ skin, “And, um. When we see him,” Harry paused, his eyes unsure, “I think you should be the one to – Well, go against him.” 

“Kill him, you mean,” Louis corrected, his voice sounding far away to his own ears. 

Harry sighed, his fingers squeezing around Louis’, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You understand that, aye?” 

Louis nodded, “I know.” 

“And if you want me to stop this right now –”

“I don’t want you to,” Louis interrupted him, his words sure. 

Harry looked anxious as his eyes flitted from the bustling crew to Louis. He gingerly tilted his head to the side, “I can’t have you hating me for what happens tonight.” 

“I –” Louis stopped to make sense of his own thoughts. Shaking his head, Louis started again, “I don’t know how to admit that I want this…Him gone, I mean. I’ve thought about it long before you came around, but…Never knew how to voice it.” 

“It doesn’t make you a bad person,” Harry murmured, shifting his hands to cup Louis’ face. 

Louis weakly laughed as he cocked his head to the side, “Doesn’t it?” 

“No,” Harry firmly stated, leaning in to kiss Louis’ forehead. “No, it doesn’t.” 

“Okay.”

 _“Is this little moment you’re having going to end soon?”_

Louis sharply laughed as he stepped back. Gemma stood two feet from them, arms crossed and foot impatiently thumping against the floorboards. Harry folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at his sibling. 

“Apparently, yes,” Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Good,” Gemma chirped, roughly patting Harry on the back. “Because we have a battle to get on with.” 

“Right,” Harry nodded, his authoritative demeanor slipping back into place. 

A sharp clatter of lightning struck over the sky, silencing the crew in their place. Louis lolled his head back and squinted as he looked upwards towards the rolling clouds. He flinched when he felt a raindrop against his cheek, quickly joined by others as the sky broke open with roaring thunder. 

“Fucking shit,” Harry growled, instantly darting up towards the quarterdeck to rattle off commands. He cupped his hands as he shouted, “Raise the main top yard!” 

Louis ran after him, stopping by Harry’s right as he watched men scurrying about the deck. Zayn was instructing deckhands to keep the barrels of powder dry, his back nearly bowed over from his rough screaming. 

“Captain!” Niall shouted from the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped the spokes. “If we go at her full-bore, we’re gonna come about the stern in a league!” 

“You’re attacking from the back?” Louis asked as rain began to fully pelt against them. 

“Aye,” Harry nodded, his attention constantly shifting over the deck and the horizon ahead. “That’s the plan.” 

“Then hit her broadside!” Niall cackled, his energy still infectious even in the middle of a downpour. 

The sea had become choppy as they plundered through the never ending ripple of waves. Louis’ eyes were squinted as he carefully moved towards the ship siding. He tightly gripped the banister and looked over the clouded ocean, his vision marred from a mixture of fog and rain. Lightning crackled over the sky, touching down in the near distance. Every rumble of thunder sent a trill through Louis’ spine as if he was an extension of the torrential storm. 

“Stand your guns!” Harry cried out over the deck. 

Louis looked over his shoulder and gaped as he followed Harry’s sightline. Appearing from a cloud along the water’s surface, was the outline of a broad ship. His breathing faltered as he stumbled back towards Harry’s side. 

“Captain,” Niall warned. 

Harry nodded, his damp hair stuck against the length of his neck. He quickly looked at Louis and mumbled something unintelligible before he seared a wet kiss against his lips. Louis made a startled noise into Harry’s mouth, but immediately kissed him back. Harry pulled back and rested their foreheads together, forgoing the use of any words in that moment. 

From across the water, they could hear the piercing sound of a bell ringing. Louis stilled, pulling away from Harry as he looked to the other ship. 

“Warning bells,” Harry muttered under their breath. He shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Summon any courage you have! Look to the siren and stand at the ready!” 

Zayn ran up to the quarterdeck, his clothes soaked as they clung against his lean frame. His chest was ballooning out with exhausted gasps, thumb jutted over his shoulder. 

“Ready below deck, Captain.” 

Harry nodded, “Wait until we’re broadside.” He clasped Zayn on the shoulder, “When you’re clear below, give the order.” Harry looked over his shoulder towards Louis before turning back, “Tomlinson and I go aboard, no one else touches the commodore. Aye?” 

Zayn nodded in understanding, “Aye.” 

“Good,” Harry patted him on the back, “Go below.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Zayn nodded once more before disappearing below deck. 

Louis tugged his headscarf tighter, trapping his wet hair away from his eyes. His fingers faltered as The Siren’s Scream rounded the other ship, the never-ending pierce of the warning bell shrill as they closed in. Louis’ eyes narrowed as he read the crimson paint that swirled along the stern of the ship. 

_The Queen’s Jewel_

“You follow my lead, Louis.”

Louis snapped his head towards Harry, already nodding along to the command. He knew it would be dangerous to do anything other than trust what Harry had planned. After all, Louis had only made it through a single raid. 

Harry strode towards the ship’s siding, eyes glued to the other ship. A sea of red jackets packed along the opposing deck, locked into position as they manned their posts. Louis’ eyes scanned over the different men, looking for one man in particular. His brows pulled together in frustration as his sight was nearly useless in the downpour. Louis felt Harry tangle their fingers together for one last reassuring squeeze before their world turned itself on its head. 

“I love you, Louis.” 

Louis looked back at Harry and squeezed his hand back, “I love you, too.” 

Harry’s mouth quirked upwards and then he was letting Louis’ hand go. He overlooked the deck as he spat out, “Mid-ship cannons, aim to the masts!” 

Gemma strutted across the main deck with a flourish of her hand as she ordered, “Main battery at the ready!” 

She turned on her heel and looked up to the quarterdeck. Louis watched as Harry tilted his head in a small nod and then directed his eyes back to The Queen’s Jewel. 

“FIRE!”

Cannon fires accompanied the blustering splinter of lightning, illuminating the night with hot iron rods. The air was a compilation of ear shattering cracks, billowy smoke, and rain shower as the battle began. Louis watched as a cannon sliced through the main mast of the other ship, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. 

He felt the puncture of The Siren’s Scream as the navy fired back, boards shaking underneath his feet as cannons pelted towards them. Louis’ nails dug into the wooden beam under his fingers, his heart lodged in his throat as he watched two men be speared by a cannonball. When he looked towards the main deck, Louis saw Gemma flit down the line of cannons, miraculously rattling off abrasive orders while missing blows from the other ship. 

Louis dropped to his front when a cannonball spat out of its bore and shot towards him. He opened his eyes to see he was nose to nose with Harry against the deck, a surprised laugh floating out of his mouth. Harry beamed back at him as another cannon whizzed by. 

“You’re learning,” Harry breathlessly smirked, rain drops dipping into his dimple.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Louis playfully rolled his eyes. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Harry poked his head upwards, checking his sights before he clambered to his feet. Louis was quick to follow suit, keeping close behind Harry as they pushed their way to the center of the deck. 

“Swingers, I need you at the ready!” Harry shouted, his words nearly getting lost in a clap of thunder. 

A group of men began to crowd around them, reaching out to grab loose ropes from the mast. Zayn, Liam, and Gemma materialized with eager grins stretched over their faces. Liam passed a line to Louis with a reassuring nod. As Louis gripped the thick rope he felt a knot form in his throat. 

“Louis,” Harry nodded to him, probably sensing his nerves, “You can do this.” 

Louis weakly scoffed, “Propel off of a ship, swing over open water, land on another ship, and face my father?” He waved Harry off, his nose scrunching, “Right. Easy enough.” 

Harry grinned, “Exactly.” 

“Orders, Captain?” one of the men asked, his bony fingers tightly gripping the twine. 

Harry nodded, “Clear passage to the quarterdeck for Louis and I.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked over the small group, “If someone sees the commodore, you tell me. Nobody lays a hand on him, aye?” 

The group nodded and mumbled a collective, “Aye, Captain.” 

With ropes in hand, they climbed onto the banister of the ship. Louis’ hands were trembling as he looked over the lip of the wood, torrential waters lapping against the ship below him. His hands tightened around the rope, clinging onto it with all of the strength he had. 

“They’re sending swingers, Harry!” Gemma shouted from down the line. 

Louis looked across the way and saw a line of men preparing to swing onto The Siren’s Scream. His stomach plummeted, cheeks paling as rain continued to splatter against his skin. 

Harry immediately unsheathed his sword and shouted, “Come on over you cack-handed rats!”

“Louis,” Liam urged, gesturing towards Louis’ sword. 

“You can’t be serious,” Louis deadpanned, both of his hands clenching impossibly tighter around the rope. 

“They’re going to swing at ye,” Liam pressed. “Best you be ready when they do.” 

“Fucking hell,” Louis vehemently rushed out before he shakily pulled his sword out. 

With only one hand gripping the rope, Louis took one last look at the pirates lined by his side. Harry was already looking at him, giving him a firm nod before he pushed himself off the ledge and swung over the open ocean. Gemma let out a battle cry and followed suit, instantly cutting down an officer in her path. 

“Oh, Shit!” Louis yelled as a man in a red coat barreled towards him with a sword brandished. 

He jumped to side and sliced his blade through the air in a swift motion. Chopping the rope before it reached the deck, Louis watched as the man plummeted into the ocean with a broken scream. 

“Chase after him, Charlotte said,” Louis grumbled as he regained his footing. He looked over to the other ship to see Harry frantically waving him over. Louis gritted his teeth, “Everything will be just fine, she said.”

“Buggering fuck,” Louis exhaled before he jumped off the edge. 

His weight propelled him forwards, his left hand determinedly wrapped around the rope. Precipitation painfully bombarded his face as he swung through the air, wind wildly whipping around him. Just as he was about to reach the ledge of the other ship, Louis saw an officer cocking his pistol towards him. 

“Bad choice, mate,” Harry shouted just before he punched the officer in the throat.

Louis let go of the rope and stumbled onto the other ship, eyes wide as Harry gripped the scruff along the officer’s neck and tossed him overboard. When Harry turned back around he had a satisfied grin stretched over his face. 

“Thanks,” Louis breathlessly laughed. 

There was a mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes when he said, “I’d like to keep you around for a bit longer.” 

Louis whipped out his pistol and fired it at a man charging towards them. He cocked it and fired, turning before he saw the other man fall. 

“Aye?” He smirked at Harry. “Just a bit?”

“Duck!” Harry shouted as he took two quick steps to Louis.

Without a second thought, Louis ducked down. Harry lurched his sword forwards and Louis heard a pained groan from behind him. Louis looked up and took Harry’s proffered hand, letting the other man haul him to his feet. 

Harry’s thumb pressed into Louis’ palm, “Aye, just a bit.” 

Louis laughed and turned in time to block a rough swipe of a sword. His blade met in the middle of the air with a metallic crash. A middle-aged man pressed into him with his upper body, knocking Louis backwards. He winced, prepared to fall before he felt a pair of hands cradle his back. 

“Kick,” Harry huffed out against Louis’ temple. 

Louis roughly kicked his boot into the man’s gut, making him double over. Harry pushed Louis back to his feet and rounded him. Without looking down, Harry gripped the man’s neck and swiftly cracked it. Louis flinched at the sound, but he was quickly distracted as he pushed Harry to the side and fired at a lieutenant. The lieutenant let out a snarky laugh when Louis missed his shot, his wrist quick to flick a swipe of his sword towards Louis’ abdomen.

“Oi!” Louis shouted, effectively taking the lead as he advanced on the other man. He bared his teeth and looked towards the lieutenant’s throat, disarming the man when he cut his sword against his knees. 

The man hissed out a pained groan and collapsed onto his calves in a praying position. Louis gripped a fistful of his hair and tilted his head back. He delivered a sharp punch into the man’s left cheek, endorphins overriding the pain that bloomed in his knuckles. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you,” Louis huffed out as he punched the man again, “That it is not polite to laugh at people?” 

Harry let out a sharp cackle, crouching down to scoop the docile man into his arms. Flashing a grin towards Louis, Harry unceremoniously tossed the man over the side of the ship. Louis laughed and wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, uselessly pushing water off of his face just for it to get rained on even more. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Harry panted as he cocked his hip to the side, “I’d say you’re enjoying yourself, Mr. Tomlinson.” 

Louis shrugged, the skin by his eyes crinkling, “Good thing you don’t know better, Captain.” 

A lopsided smile jilted Harry’s mouth upwards as he walked towards Louis. He lightly thumbed Louis’ bottom lip before cocking his head towards the left. Harry’s finger slipped away as he started towards the quarterdeck. Louis followed him, dodging a body as Gemma hurled a man to his knees with a powerful kick.

“Good one, Gem!” Louis called out. 

Gemma crossed over the space between them, barely looking over her shoulder when she shot the man. She beamed at Louis and nodded, “Thanks, Tomlinson.” 

“Louis!” 

Louis turned towards the staircase to see Harry halfway up, his right eyebrow purposely raised. 

“Oh, right,” Louis nodded, jogging over to Harry. 

Gunpowder was thick in the air as the two men climbed the staircase. Cannons continued to bombard both ships, the sound nearly melting into the collision of lighting against the ocean. The bolts were getting closer to the two ships, causing Louis’ gut to anxiously twist as he looked up wards the height of the main mast. 

He was vaguely aware that more members of Harry’s crew were surrounding them than before. Louis wasn’t sure if that meant they were winning, or if more of his father’s men were aboard The Siren’s Scream. Either way, he didn’t feel as if he had to constantly look over his shoulder for a pistol aimed at him. Or worse, Harry. 

The quarterdeck was a graveyard of fallen crewmen, only three living people standing amongst the wreckage. Zayn and Liam were fending off a commander, the third man wielding two swords as he fought them off simultaneously. Harry paused for a moment, his back rigid as he searched over the faces of the fallen men. Louis’ eyes darted between the battle and Harry’s frown, refusing to look down at the floorboards. 

Harry quickly turned, nearly knocking Louis off balance as he strode to the quarterdeck’s railing. Louis grimaced as he stepped over a red coat, falling into place next to Harry’s side. Harry’s jawline was taught as he furiously raked over the main deck, eyes frantically darting between the living and dead. 

“Where is he?”

Louis’ brows pulled together as he combed over the deck, narrowing his eyes as he searched through the bleary faces. He felt an uneasiness seep into his bones as he did a third sweep over the deck. 

“You – You don’t think…”

“He’s here,” Harry cut Louis off. He offered Louis and apologetic nudge for the sharpness of his tone. “He’s hiding.” 

“Hiding?” Louis dubiously asked. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, swallowing a lick of rainwater with the movement. “Where could he possibly be hiding?” 

Harry let out a frustrated groan and turned around, his pistol raised as he rapidly shot the commander in the back. Zayn swiftly darted to the side as the man fell forwards with a slick _thump_. 

Liam spun on his heel and raised his hands, “What’d you do that for?!”

“We nearly had him,” Zayn grumbled, coming across like a petulant child.

Without a word, Harry started towards the stairs. Louis was frozen in place, his jaw hung loose as he stared after him. He looked towards Liam and Zayn who were staring back at him with equal confusion. Liam slightly shrugged his shoulder as Zayn motioned for Louis to go after him.

Snapping out of it, Louis rushed after Harry. He skipped a few steps along the staircase and extended his fingers to grip Harry’s wrist. When their skin touched, Harry paused at the bottom of the staircase. Louis slowly reached his hand to Harry’s jaw, gently pulling his attention towards him. 

“Harry,” Louis quietly said, his thumb brushing off water droplets that clung to his cheek. He waited until Harry looked at him to continue, “Don’t be rash about this.”

“I’m not being rash,” Harry quickly countered.

Louis raised his eyebrow, “You just shot a man who was in the middle of fighting Zayn and Liam.”

“I was helping them.”

“ _Harry_.”

Harry hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, “How can he not be here?” 

Louis looked around the deck, frowning when he realized that it was nearly empty of any members of the navy. His fingers slipped from Harry’s skin as he felt his adrenaline spiking throughout his body. He walked further along the main deck, his feet drifting over the floorboards without conscious thought as his eyes darted towards The Siren’s Scream. 

“ _Shit_.” 

With wide eyes, Louis whipped around to see Harry’s confused gaze already locked on him. He jerkily shook his head, his throat dry as Harry quickly closed in on him. 

“Louis…” Harry drawled out. He arched the bow of his spine to be at Louis’ eyelevel, “What’s going on?” 

“He played you.” 

Harry looked even more confused as a rattle of thunder injected itself in the silence between them. 

Louis turned back towards The Siren’s Scream, narrowing his eyes as he looked through the downpour. There was a frantic motion of swords clashing and gunshots spearing between men. It was complete chaos in comparison to the state of The Queen’s Jewel. 

“Harry we have to go back,” Louis rushed out, darting across the deck to grab two ropes. He looked over his shoulder and saw Harry stock still as he stared at his ship. Louis shouted, “Harry! Come on, he’s trying to take over your ship!” 

That seemed to snap Harry out of his revere. Louis already had a rope extended towards Harry as the man sprinted to his side. Harry wordlessly took it in a sure grip and then climbed along the banister, Louis by his side. Louis’ endorphins overrode any fear he had left as he tugged on the rope and moved to jump over the ledge. 

As their boots kicked off of the banister, Louis heard a voice cackle, “So long, Captain!” 

His neck whipped towards the mast just in time to see an admiral cutting through the top of Harry’s rope. Louis felt the concept of time dissipate while he watched Harry claw through the air as if he was a downed bird. Brown curls wildly whipped in the storm as he descended towards the ocean’s surface, green irises blindly searching before the sea took him. 

Louis slammed into the banister of The Siren’s Scream, every vessel in his body pumping terror and adrenaline as he pulled himself over the siding. Rainwater and wind thrashed over him as he looked over the ship’s siding, searching through the water below. His heart felt as if it was going to combust from frantically thrumming inside of his chest when Harry didn’t surface. 

“Come on,” Louis muttered to himself, his fingernails painfully digging to wood as he waited. 

Then, down by the stern of the ship, Louis saw Harry push to the surface. He broke through the torrential waves with his head cocked back, mouth opened wide to breath. Louis sprinted down the deck of the ship, darting by whizzing bullets and clashing swords. Without a seconds thought, he climbed onto the banister and turned his body towards Harry’s thrashing one. Louis pushed himself off of the ship, over lapping his hands above his head as he dove into the water. 

The moment that Louis’ body sunk into the Caribbean, the current immediately threatened to drown him. His frame was restlessly tugged side to side as waves broke over his head. He felt disoriented when he tried to kick himself to the surface. Water weighed his body down, the cold press of the waves nearly unbearable as he swam to the surface. 

A rough gasp of air ripped his throat when he finally broke through. His thighs burned as he kept up the motions, head whipping around as he looked for Harry. Louis swam towards the side of The Siren’s Scream, his hands gripping into the swell of the boards as he tried to stay afloat. As another rumble of thunder clattered through the night, Louis anxiously searched the sky for bolts. 

“Louis!” 

He immediately turned towards the noise, seeing Harry weakly pushing himself over the rock of a wave. Louis ducked under the surface and swam as hard as his body could allow towards Harry. Stopping just in front of him, Louis frantically gripped the collar of Harry’s jacket and hauled him clear above water. He turned on his back and wrapped one hand around Harry’s chest to hold him close. Harry was nearly limp from exhaustion as Louis swam them towards the anchor of the ship. 

Louis felt his muscles screaming in agony by the time they made it to the chain of the anchor. He caged Harry’s body with his own and wrapped them around the thick linked chains. Tilting his head back, Louis scouted the length they would have to climb to get back to the deck. With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, Louis looked down at Harry. 

“Alright, Harry,” Louis shouted over the roar of the storm. He wrapped his legs around the chain roughly gripped Harry’s waist to push him upwards, “I need you to climb up to the deck, love.” 

Harry slowly blinked his eyes as he looked up the length of the chain. His skin was washed of any color as he gingerly nodded. Louis carefully watched as Harry hooked his hands and ankles around the links. He had one hand supporting Harry’s lower back as Harry began to clamber out of the water. Louis nearly let out a sob at the pained expression that tortured Harry’s face as he climbed, fatigue obviously ebbed any strength he had. 

“Come on, Treacle,” Louis encouraged once both of them were cleared above the water. “You can do this, we’re so close.” 

They both knew it was a lie, just words to keep pushing Harry onwards as they scaled towards the deck. Louis winced at the frigid bite of slick metal against his fingertips. Everything ached and there was a tempting alternative of letting go and letting the water swallow him into the abyss. 

Harry’s right foot shifted upwards with his next reach, the heel of his boot slipping against the wet metal. There was a sharp scream as his foot jerked out as, his knuckles turning ivory against his skin as he tightened his hold. Louis immediately scrambled to grab him with his fingers, leaving him with just one arm looped around the chain as while he reached for Harry. 

“Buggering, fuck!” Louis gritted out as he gripped Harry’s foot and roughly tugged it back to the line of metal links. 

“Oh my god,” Harry whimpered, his body nearly rigid as he hugged his frame around the chain. 

“Harry –”

“ _No_ ” Harry shook his head. He wasn’t moving anymore even though they were nearly at the deck. “I can’t – I can’t do it.” 

“Harry,” Louis craned his neck to try and look at the petrified man above him. “I need you to keep moving so I can kick my father’s arse for trying to kill you.”

Harry snuffed a weak laugh, but he didn’t move. 

“You told me I could do this, yeah?” Louis tried, waiting for Harry’s grumbled response. “Well…” He drawled off, wiping the sheen of water from his face, “Let me do that for you now.” 

Louis hesitantly let go of the line to sooth his hand against the back of Harry’s calf.

“You can do this,” Louis earnestly said. He squeezed Harry’s leg and then regained his grip around the metal, “You just need to keep moving.” 

The wind bellowed around them and for a moment, Louis thought that Harry might let go of the line. 

“ _Aye_.”

Louis beamed as he watched Harry gingerly shift his heel upwards. With every reach, Harry began to get his momentum back. Harry was letting out slight grunts with every pull of his muscles, the sounds nearly lost in the howl of the storm. Pride blossomed in the pit of Louis’ gut as he carefully trailed behind Harry, his attention more focused on the other man’s movements than his own. 

When they met the banister, Louis waited while Harry stretched out and gripped the wooden beam. He pulled himself over the lip and immediately turned back to reach out for Louis. Louis shimmied a bit higher on the line, his right hand carefully extended. Harry arched his back and surely wrapped his hands around Louis’ forearm. Louis reciprocated his hold and put his trust into Harry. 

Harry’s teeth barred as he hauled Louis over the bannister, using all of the upper-body strength that he had left. Louis kicked the sole of his shoes against the ship’s siding, feeling his pulse skyrocket as Harry managed to get him on board. 

The two men tumbled backwards, Louis collapsing in Harry’s lap as they landed on the stern of the ship. Louis’ chest ballooned with rugged breaths while he tried to gather his bearings. He cocked his head to the side and noticed that there wasn’t anybody at the end of the ship. 

“Thank you,” Harry exhaled from underneath him. 

Louis climbed off of Harry and reached out a hand to bring him to his feet. Harry grimaced as he was pulled upwards, his movements slightly disjointed. Bringing both of his palms against Harry’s neck, Louis raised himself to his feet and gently pecked Harry. 

“You would have done it for me,” Louis murmured as he leaned away. 

“Aye,” Harry nodded, his eyes softening a touch. 

“C’mon,” Louis winked, taking a step towards the main deck. “Still have a battle to win, Captain.” 

Harry laughed, the kind where his head lolled back and his hands rested over his stomach. It pulled an infection sound from his lips and Louis found himself huffing out a matching giggle. 

“Right,” Harry exhaled, shaking his head side to side. “Still have that to worry about.” 

Louis stepped to the side and gestured for Harry go first, “After you, Treacle.” 

Harry nodded, schooling his expression before he tugged his sword from its dampened sheath and strutted forward. Taking out his own blade, Louis stayed close behind him. Just around the mizzen, the battle was still commencing. However, there were far less amounts of participants from either party than before. 

Bodies were being knocked over the side of the ship, carelessly chucked before they met the water’s surface. Louis couldn’t help a relieved noise when he saw Niall and Jules fighting side by side against two men in red jackets. His grin was quick to slip as a third man crept behind Niall’s back, a broad-axe flourished in his hand. 

“No!” Louis screamed, his voice catching as he watched the man rear his arms back.

Immediately, Harry sprung to action by his side. He pulled out a small dagger and hauled it forward. Louis gaped as the silver blade summersaulted through the air before plunging between the man’s shoulders. The man immediately dropped the axe behind him before he fell to the side. Niall continued his fight, oblivious to the fact that he was nearly impaled. 

Harry sprinted over, pulling his dagger from the man’s back. He turned on his heel and brandished his sword against a harsh blow from another man in red. Louis’ gaze roamed over the living graveyard, searching for his father in the midst of the chaos. He paused as he skirted over Harry’s cabin, only looking back when he saw light emanating from underneath the door. 

Louis surged towards the cabin, cutting down two men who stood in his path before stopping in front of the double doors. He felt fear prick at the highest knot of his spine as he reached out, fingers hovering over wood. Taking one last deep breath, Louis opened the door. 

He immediately held up his sword once he barreled through, freezing when the only thing he saw was the back of a man by the barreled windows. Louis steeled himself as the man gingerly spun around, apparently unbothered by the prospect of someone else joining him. Their eyes met, blue to blue, and Louis nearly dropped his sword as a sickly smile stretched over the other man’s lips. 

The commodore clasped his hands together, slowly clapping as he took a step towards Louis. He only stood a few inches taller than Louis, but his grandeur made him appear to have the strength of a tsunami. Short black hair was pushed away from his face, his powdered wig lamely tossed to the side on Harry’s table. Louis eyed it and felt himself itching to get the offensive material off of Harry’s belongings. 

“I must admit I did not think you would survive that jump.” 

Louis felt his world unhinge at the mocking applause of his existence. 

“You don’t sound too bothered by the possibility of me not making it.”

Louis’ father folded his arms over his chest, taking another step towards Louis. 

“I am not bothered by a pirate’s death, no,” Commodore leered, his head titled to the side. 

“I’m sure it must be hard for you to remember, _Commodore_ ,” Louis spat, “But, I am your son after all.” He threateningly raised his sword, his skin burning as he stared at his father, “A death of a son would usually warrant a father to be upset.”

The commodore slowly pulled out his own ornate blade, “That would be true if you did not turn out the way you did, Louis.”

Louis gaped at the older man, “Turn out the way I did?” 

“I received word from my informant at Tortuga,” Commodore drawled out, disdain coloring his expression. “Imagine my humiliation,” He held his hand over his heart, “My own flesh and blood turning to a life of piracy.” Louis’ father shook his head, “That was not how you were raised.”

Louis saw red, immediately closing the space between them, “The way I was raised?” His glare dragged from the Commodore’s eyes, down his chest, and then back up. Louis scoffed, his voice lowering, “You have no idea how I was raised.” 

“I sent you schillings, I saw that you were well looked after which is more than many can say,” The commodore sneered. He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “And this is how you pay me?” 

“I don’t owe you a thing,” Louis snarled. 

_“You owe me everything.”_

Louis reared back to punch his father, every ounce of him craving to extinguish the man that stood in front of him. The commodore stepped the side and gripped Louis’ extended wrist. His father spun him around with Louis’ hand held behind him. He brought his sword to Louis’ throat and tauntingly pressed the flat end against Louis’ skin. 

Jutting his elbow backwards, Louis nailed the other man in his solar plexus. He ripped his wrist from the commodore’s hold and ducked away from his blade. Louis kicked his foot out and impaled his father in the center of his chest. The commodore flew backwards into the table, toppling the large wooden surface onto its side. 

There was a sharp clashing by the cabin door before it flew open. Louis whipped his head to the side and saw Harry tumble into the room. Harry had crimson blood splattered against his hairline and his eyes were wild as they combed over the room. 

“Louis!” He shouted, pulling Louis’ attention away in time to see his father lunging towards him. 

Louis jumped to the side, opening his stance as he raised his sword. The commodore mirrored his stance, eyes darting between Harry and Louis. 

“My informant told me something else,” The commodore panted out, his mouth twisting into a repulsed grimace. “He told me,” he started, taking a quick swipe towards Louis’ hand, “That the two of you were engaged in romantic relations.” 

“Yeah, well,” Louis huffed out as he dodged a second swipe, “Your informant can go fuck themselves.” 

The Commodore jumped to the side, avoiding Louis’ advance. 

“Is it true?” 

Harry snorted from his place by the door and stepped further into the cabin, “Do you really think you have a right to ask him anything, Commodore?” 

“He is my son,” The commodore growled, the tip of his blade teetering between Harry and Louis. “I have the authority to know whatever I want in regards to him.” 

“He’s your son and yet here you are,” Harry humorlessly laughed as he gestured between them, “Aiming your sword at him.” 

Louis snorted, “He has a point.” 

“Answer my goddamn question!” Louis’ father yelled, advancing on Louis quicker than the bolts of lightning outside. 

Harry was on him before he could reach Louis, his hands immediately circling the commodore’s arms behind his back. He knocked the man’s sword from his hands and kicked the back of his knees. The commodore grunted and landed on his kneecaps by Louis’ feet. 

Louis watched as his father struggled in Harry’s grip, the vein in his neck protruding as he tried to break free. 

“Harry,” Louis evenly said, his eyes narrowing towards his father. “Give me his wedding ring.” 

Without question, Harry clasped both of Commodore’s hands in one of his own. He roughly tugged the golden band from his forth finger and handed it to Louis. As Louis held the metal ring to his eyesight, Harry pulled out his dagger and positioned it over the commodore’s throat. 

“My mother gave you this ring,” Louis quietly mused as he rolled it between his fingers. He pocketed the band, “What I want to know is, why? Why did you get married and start a family if you had no intention on staying?” 

“I married your mother because it was expected of me.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “It was expected of me to get married and yet…” Louis held out his hands and gestured to himself, “Here I am.” 

He roughly punched the commodore in the jaw, gritting out, “I’m gonna need you to do better than that.”

The commodore groaned, his head lolling to side as he spat out a spray of blood. 

“If I were you,” Harry grumbled, tightening his hold on Louis’ father, “I would tell him exactly what he wants.” 

“You don’t want to know this.”

Louis humorlessly laughed, “I promise you, I do.”

“I married your mother because she was pregnant with you.” 

His words hung in the air, swirling around them in a haze as Louis took a clear step backwards. 

“What?” He shook his head, eyes darting towards Harry’s dumbfounded expression. “No, you – You’re lying to me.” 

“For once,” The commodore looked up at him, “I am not.” 

Louis paused for a moment, “But…Why the girls? And Ernest?” Louis’ brows pulled together as anger boiled under his skin, “You didn’t have to go on to have _six_ other children!”

The commodore shrugged, “No, I didn’t have to.” 

“You selfish bastard!” Louis shouted. He paced in front of the two other men, “You were using her!”

“It is not using if she is my wife.”

Harry made a repulsed sound before he swiftly bent the commodore’s arm behind his back. Louis wasn’t looking, but judging by a sharp cracking sound that was followed by a pained howl, he assumed Harry broke his arm. 

“Stop your whimpering, you piece of filth,” Harry gritted out. 

“Fuck off,” The commodore spat back. He jutted his chin towards Louis and taunted him, “What now? Are you going to kill me, son?” 

Louis took one look at him, sizing him up as he glared back at Louis. 

“Did you ever love me at all?”

The commodore didn’t even flinch as he replied, “How could I? You were my mistake.” 

His words didn’t even hurt as they sunk in. It was the answer Louis knew all along, something he had mulled over in his head for years. The only difference, was that they were finally out in the open. 

“Good,” Louis coldly said, causing his father’s head to snap towards him in confusion. Louis slowly crouched in front of the Commodore, “Now I won’t feel guilty for what will happen to you.” 

Louis rose to his feet and looked at Harry who was already expectantly staring back at him. 

“I’m going to get Gemma,” Louis stated as he took a step back, watching as a small grin twitched at the corner of Harry’s mouth. 

“Are you sure?” 

Louis felt the weight of the wedding ring his pocket. 

“Positive.” 

Leaving Harry to his devices, Louis walked out of the cabin without a second look. He startled when he was outside the door, realizing that their crew was creating a half-circle around him. The rest of the deck was cleared of red, the remaining survivors were all part of the siren’s crew. Gemma stepped from, pulling off her hat in sign of respect. Slowly, one by one, Louis watched as the rest of the crew followed suit and lowered their gaze. 

Gemma walked closer, stopping in front of him to put her hand on Louis’ shoulder. 

“Everyone heard that, didn’t they?” Louis murmured, his eyes shifting towards her. 

“Aye,” She quietly said. Gemma tugged him into a hug, “Go below deck with Horan.” 

Louis nodded and wordlessly moved in the direction of the crew’s quarters. Niall materialized by his side, his hand resting between Louis’ shoulders. He saw members of their crew looting the other ship, shifting between row boats as they loaded their pockets with valuables. Louis grinned to himself as he took the first step to go down the steps.

He paused on the staircase when he heard a loud rumble of footsteps rolling towards him. Louis’ brows were furrowed together as he looked over his shoulder, a frown tugging his lips downwards as Harry jogged over to his side. 

“That was faster than expected,” Louis cocked his head to the side. 

Harry shook his head, “I didn’t kill him.” 

“Uh,” Louis floundered for a moment, looking over Harry’s shoulder to see Gemma hauling his father out onto the deck. Louis reared back, “What’s happening?” 

“He walks the plank,” Harry unquestionably stated. 

“What?” Louis’ gaze darted back towards his father who had his hands bound by manacles. Shaking his head, he looked at Harry, “Why would you do that?” 

“That way…His blood isn’t on either of our hands,” Harry drawled out, nervously sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.

Louis scrubbed his face with his palms, groaning out, “But…Harry, you’ve wanted this for _years_.”

“And I want you for longer.” 

“You already have me,” Louis huffed out a confused laugh. 

“If I kill him,” Harry pointed towards the commodore who was being ushered onto the plank, “There is a possibility that you would resent me.” He cupped Louis’ jaw and lightly thumbed his cheekbone, “I thought the right thing would have been for you to do it…But, that would hurt you. No matter what you say now, it would have hurt you.”

Louis disbelievingly grinned at him, “You’re serious?” 

“I am,” Harry nodded. 

Louis gripped the lapels of Harry’s jacket and pulled him down, their mouths meeting in the middle. Searing a frim kiss to his lips, Louis hummed into Harry’s mouth. 

“I love you,” Louis murmured. 

Harry grinned, “And I love you.” 

Lacing their fingers together, Harry walked them towards the plank. The commodore’s hands were bound behind his back, his neck craned as he looked over the edge of the ship. 

“Bring up the anchor,” Harry called out. 

Louis watched his father as two members of the crew rigged the anchor out of the water. The commodore turned around, his eyes immediately finding Harry and Louis’ laced hands. 

“Disgusting,” The commodore spat out. 

“Harry?” Louis conversationally said, his fingers reaching to lace themselves in Harry’s hair. He tilted his head to the side and mischievously winked, eliciting a matching expression from, Harry. 

“Yes, Louis?” Harry said just as loud. 

Louis rocked onto his tiptoes, “How about we show my father just how disgusting we are?” 

Harry let out a sharp cackle, “I would love to.” 

As Louis leaned in towards Harry, he heard a disgruntled, “Oh, fuck this,” which was quick followed by a loud splash. 

“Would you look at that,” Gemma droned with an almost impressed expression. 

Louis looked over Harry’s shoulder to see Gemma suppressing a laugh. 

“Someone would have rather died than see you two get all soppy.” 

Louis’ face broke out into a wide beam as he startled to full on belly-laugh into Harry’s neck. The rest of the crew joined in, their laughter comingling the dissipation of the night’s storm. The downpour had riddled down to a light misting, thunder tumbling further in the distance. Louis tilted his head back, closing his eyes as the rain washed away traces of the evening. 

Even more importantly, traces of his past. 

When he opened his eyes he saw Harry’s nose scrunched in laughter, his eyes shining bright as he continued to let out breathy giggles. Watching the man in front of him, Louis knew that he was ready to let the past be. He could finally do that. When he gazed at Harry, Louis knew that for the first time, he had a future to look forward to. 

****

“I love you.” 

“Harry,” Louis giggled, his neck craned so he could look over his shoulder. He shifted his hips, “My face is up here.” 

“Aye,” Harry grinned before he lightly nipped at the cleft of Louis’ bum. “I was talking to your arse.”

“Oi!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Kidding.” 

Louis turned onto his back, his skin cushioned by moss as he folded his hands over his head. Harry climbed along the length of his body, his chest flushed and faintly glistening with perspiration. Laying his head over Louis’ steady beating heart, Harry roamed over the planes of Louis’ chest with his fingers. 

“I have something I want to tell you,” Harry murmured, his lips pursing to press a kiss against Louis’ heated skin. 

“Sounds serious.” 

Harry sucked in a breath, his voice coming out quiet, “A bit.” 

Louis wrapped an arm around Harry’s bare waist, his thumb lightly running over the dip of his spine. He encouragingly hummed and waited for Harry to speak at his own pace. 

“I sent all of the loot from your father’s ship to Kensington.” 

“What?” Louis asked, rolling onto his side and propping himself on his arm.

Harry mirrored his position, kicking out his leg to tangle their calves together. He slightly shrugged, his eyes trailed on the ground instead of Louis’ bewildered expression. 

“You sent that to…” Louis drawled out, his fingers rolling in the air. 

“Your family.” 

Louis gaped at Harry, his jaw slack as he shook his head. He knew how much they had collected from The Queen’s Jewel and if Harry was telling the truth, his family would be set for the rest of their lives. Even for future generations, if they rationed wisely. 

“Harry…”

“I got the rest of the crew’s approval,” Harry rushed out, sitting upwards and crossing his legs. He tangled his fingers in his lap, “But, if they didn’t agree…I didn’t want you to have your hopes up for nothing.” 

Louis shook his head and gingerly sat up. He pushed Harry’s hands away and crawled into his lap. Hooking his ankles behind Harry’s back, Louis cupped Harry’s jaw. 

“Harry, I can’t believe you did that.”

“They’re your family and you’re mine.” Harry shrugged, before he looked Louis in the eyes. “I take care of my family.” 

Not knowing what to say, Louis leaned forward and softly kissed him. Their lips slowly melded together as they sucked kiss after kiss. Louis tilted his head and gently licked over the seam of Harry’s lips before pulling back with a final touch of their mouths. 

“There’s something else…”

Louis let out a surprised huff of laughter against Harry’s mouth. He tangled his index finger in a curl that laid against the back of Harry’s neck. 

“What else could you possibly have?” Louis snorted. 

“If you wanted to move back to Kensington,” Harry carefully started, Louis going still in his lap. 

“I’m not letting you leave me again,” Louis sternly said, his eyes narrowing. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry shook his head. He held Louis close to his body, “If you wanted a normal life, in Kensington, or anywhere…I would do that with you.” 

Louis’ mouth parted as his eyes widened, “You – You would…”

Harry nodded, “If it’s what you want, Zayn said he would take the siren.”

“You already asked him? You asked Zayn Malik if he would take over your ship?” Louis gaped, his heart palpitating. 

“Aye,” Harry whispered. He delicately pecked Louis’ cheekbone, “I want to give you anything that you wanted before we met. If that’s a normal life…I can do that. I _would_ do that.” 

Louis leaned back and looked Harry in his eyes, genuine earnestly reflected back at him. 

“Well, here’s the thing,” Louis dragged out as he leaned forward to kiss the side of Harry’s neck. He sucked a wet kiss, “I found a flaw in your plan.”

Harry’s arms tightened around Louis’ waist as he let out a soft, “Is that so?”

Louis nodded and pressed another kiss in the same spot, “I sort of have this dream of marrying a captain…”

Harry let out a weak laugh that was somewhere between a sigh and a moan. 

Louis smiled into Harry’s neck, “And that would be a bit difficult for me to do if you weren’t a captain anymore.” 

“Aye,” Harry squeezed Louis’ sides. 

“So…You can see how that wouldn’t work for me, aye?” Louis cheekily asked as he pulled back a few inches. 

Harry’s eyes looked misty as he bit back a smile, the motion useless as the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards. He nodded and schooled his expression, fingers rubbing along the base of Louis’ spine. 

“Can’t exactly marry me in the eyes of the church, though,” Harry cocked his head to the side. 

Louis waved him off, “Never fancied churches all that much.”

“Where _do_ you fancy marrying me?” Harry quietly asked. 

Louis looked around them, eyes raking over the tranquility of their grotto. 

Turning back to Harry, he whispered, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

Harry unwrapped his arms from Louis’ waist and held out his right hand. He carefully pulled off the ruby encrusted ring that was nestled on his pinky, the jewel glistening from filtered sunlight that crept into the cavern. Harry took Louis’ left hand in his own, this fingers slightly trembling. Louis’ breath hitched in his throat as he fanned out his fingers. 

“Louis,” Harry murmured as he slipped the ring over the tip of Louis’ finger. He tilted his head up to meet Louis’ gaze, “Will you marry me?” 

“Aye,” Louis immediately nodded, his cheeks flushing as he quickly corrected, “Yeah, I mean, _yes_.

Harry giggled as he drew Louis into a kiss, both men breathlessly grinning into the affectionate gesture. Just like their first kiss, Harry tasted of sugary candy apples. He was sweet and intoxicating as their lips slotted together. But, it was also different; Louis could taste the difference on the tip of his tongue. This kiss was was laced with love and a promise. It was a promise of forever that rested along his fourth finger and burrowed itself into the previously hollowed sections of Louis’ heart. 

Louis pulled back and nuzzled against Harry’s ear to lightly sing, “Yo ho, yo ho…”

“Little dove, _no_ ,” Harry fondly groaned and pinched his side. “That song is the absolute worst thing to happen to piracy.”

A musical laugh tittered from Louis’ lips while he pulled back. He jutted out his bottom lip and Harry lasted about ten seconds before he was rolling his eyes and giving in.

“Fire, fine,” Harry huffed, resting his weight back on one hand while the other traced over Louis’ dagger tattoo. 

Louis beamed at him and took an exaggerated breath, eliciting a rack of giggles from the other man before he finished the line of the song. 

_“A pirate’s life for me.”_


End file.
